


The Rags and The Riches

by NowhereFan



Category: The Beatles
Genre: F/M, George just hangs around, Jim is ill, John is a cleaner, M/M, McLennon, Paul is a rich businessman, Ringo tries to escape John's madness, but fails, but well enough to find out what Paul gets up to, so trust no one..., the business is full of morons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-12-13 06:46:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 27,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11754291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowhereFan/pseuds/NowhereFan
Summary: John Lennon age 22 works in a mega corporation, part of England's most successful music hall. His job isn't to attend board meetings or to fire people but he is a mere cleaner nearing his tenth year working there.Paul McCartney age 21 is the new boss of that mega corporation. Not by choice though, he was appointed that role after his father had fallen gravely ill.Set in 1955, no one who walks in and out of these buildings is to be trusted but sweet, gullible Paul is new to the corporate world and is ready to impress. His naivety could result in him losing his father's empire, unless he can find somebody to trust.------------I got the idea when we were watching film in French at school months ago.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it's a bit short, the next chapters will get longer I promise. This is just an intro.

John groaned at the ear-splitting sound of his alarm ringing through the room. He looked at his rusting alarm clock and it read 18:00. The 22 year old sighed and sat up not wanting to leave the warmth of his squeaky old bed. He rubbed his eyes, squinted and looked at his surroundings, John's shoebox sized room was in a state as always cluttered with boxes and papers he never really bothered to go through.

It never actually bothered him, the mess, his whole tiny apartment was like that. It wasn't actually his fault though, after failing everything at school and not getting a _proper job_ his aunt Mimi kicked him out and in haste he had to find a place and move his stuff in too. Yet his Uncle George was reluctant to let John live on his own.

He got up and shivered from the cold and quickly rushed to his bathroom and begrudgingly got ready for _his day._

As John let the warm water flow down his back he thought about work. He honestly didn't mind it, it was just the repetition that got to him. He wasn't one for having a steady, boring career and settling, he actually planned to do something exciting and meaningful with his life.

He wasn't exactly sure what it was he would be doing, however he was certain he didn't want to lead the life everyone else had. John had known that from the minute he had started school.

But unfortunately for him a few bumps in the road had set him back and his life would have to remain like this for now.

\--------------------------------------

' _Stupid Mimi' John thought he trudged along the streets of Liverpool, the two of them have had yet another fight and John ran out of the house refusing to listen to her._

 _He had been wandering for about an hour now, it was a December morning and John cursed himself for not bothering to bring suitable outdoor wear. John knew he shouldn't really be wandering around alone at a time like this. But he was too blinded with anger to think sensibly_.

_The 12 year old frowned, watching all the kids, his age, walking off happily to school. He didn't understand why some kids were so glad to go to there some mornings._

_He hated it with a passion, he wasn't good at most of his subjects as whenever he was struggling the teachers failed to help him. The only thing that interested him was drawing, no one really seemed to nurture his interests or even appreciate him._

_These reasons were why he ended up walking in the opposite direction from the other kids. He was glad. But on the other hand, he was cold and hungry and had no idea where he was going._

_\------------------------------------------_

Paul furrowed his eyebrows as the rising sun's hues peeked through his grand bedroom window caressing his handsome features. He turned to his side, which was effortless in silk sheets, and faced his American fiancée - Linda.

He felt so lucky to have her in his life, facing her made him realise how in love he was, he could watch her sleep all day but he also remembered his newly found responsibility. He stroked her cheek moving her messy blonde hair from her face and got ready for work seeing as it was now six in the morning.

He was excited for his first day in the big leagues. Paul had woken up early especially so he could have a relaxing bubble bath n his large bathroom.

This was much needed due to the sudden wave of stress and pressure overwhelming his system. He didn't want to admit the pressure was getting to him, because he had preparing for this ever since school.

Just not the part of his father becoming seriously ill.

He got dressed and treaded carefully to his master bedroom, trying his best not wake his sleeping fiancée. Looks like he didn't need to because when he looked over to where she was previously laying, there was an empty space. So he shrugged and went downstairs to indulge in a Full English.

\----------------------

John quickly hopped to his kitchen, with one leg squeezing through his trouser leg and the other balancing him. Typically, he was late again and had to rush off to work. When he had accomplished putting on his trousers, he went over and swung open his cheap fridge. This proved difficult task to do while trying to pull on a jumper and do up your shirt buttons.

He sighed when he remembered how he forgot to do shopping having fallen asleep. He shut the fridge, and slipped into his shoes, deciding on going hungry for now (he could pick up food in the way).

John cursed himself for oversleeping (again) when he saw he bus drive round the corner. He hastily tied up his laces, preparing to run to the bus stop, for the thousandth time.

\-------------------  
Paul's driver pulled up in front of a large building that will now become his _kingdom._  
Paul grinned excitedly, it was time. He got out of the car ready to begin a brand new day.

He opened the doors and greeted everybody with a friendly smile plastered on his face.

One light haired man stood in the corner, his arms folded, shaking his head at the young man. He stared at him, his eyes never wandering and followed him into the lift. He rubbed his hands together

' _This is going to be fun'_


	2. Chapter 2

Paul was practically skipping through the lobby through the office part of the buildings (known as the Hallion or "H" building ).

As he greeted people he started to admire his surroundings.

He was surprised at the moderness of the lobby, seeing as his father personally picked the designs. The floor was made of glossy floorboards, with a large black rug making the walk into the offices effortless.

In the corner (on the left of the door) were black leather sofas, and a coffee table with newspapers and magazines stacked on top.

On the right of the door was a desk for the receptionist to work and on her desk a radio blared through the room. And straight ahead of the entrance, at the end of the lobby was an elevator, with elegant designs on top. This was just a small fraction of the wealth Paul's father and late mother had made.

With one final glowing smile at his employees, Paul walked into the lift and pressed the button to go up to the 2nd to top floor. Before the doors could close a man with brownish-blond hair spread the doors apart and walked in smiling at Paul.

Paul stood in the lift awkwardly not really knowing what to say. Paul smiled politely while wishing this man would hurry up and get off. Before the twenty-one year old had time to drown in discomfort. The other man began to speak.

"So you are the new CEO of  everything involved with this music hall?" He inquired looking at Paul with beady eyes.

"Erm... yes." He replied smiling back as the man nodded slowly Paul began to speak again. "As exciting as it is, I don't actually have this job under the best circumstances."

The man raised his eyebrow in curiosity. "You see my dad is really ill, he has er... viral pneumonia. Not sure of he'll make it, but there is always hope right?" Paul said solemnly fiddling with his hands.

"My mother got that when I was younger. She wasn't so lucky and died." He smiled and tried lightening the mood. "If you ever need to talk, go the receptionist and ask for John." 

The 21 year old smiled and held out his hand for the other man to shake.

"Paul."

**************

_Paul woke up to the unpleasant sound of someone retching outside his room. He stretched his legs and jumped out of his bed to investigate further. He was glad that unlike most kids he could stay at home for the next two months._

_You see, he could stay home because he didn't actually start and his new school until January. He'd be attending one of the best boarding schools in the world, thanks to the income his father was bringing in._

_But in actual fact, despite the privilege, he was dreading it. This school of his was in America so he would be moving to there and England back and forth until he turned eighteen. And after that he would end up going to university in Paris._

_So yes his whole life had been planned out for him, and he barely had a say in any of it, much to his dismay. But as a ten year old boy there wasn't much he could say, even if he did no one would listen to him._

_When he opened his room door he could see his mother crouched down in the corner vomiting out something red._

_"J-James," She croaked. "g-go and get your f-" She retched out once more unable to finish her sentence, Paul however knew what she was going to say, so he obediently rushed down their marble staircase_

\--------------------------

Paul walked to his office beaming, feeling glad to have already made a new work friend and trusted employee.

John stared at the happy man rubbing his hands together gladly. He walked right past his own office and into Paul's new secretary's.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open, whilst checking if any other worker was watching him going in. When he was satisfied, he invited himself inside.

"Cynthia, did the receptionist give you my note." He whispered after shutting the door.

"Yes I did, but why are you here now?" She replied back looking up from her papers.

"I have to tell that McCartney's son is the new boss so our plans have to change."

"Really!" She said worriedly focussing her full attention on the other man.

"Don't worry darling," He said clutching her small hands. "He is too naïve, he's bound to crash and burn."

"Just make sure he trusts you, you need to get close to him." John smoothed out his blonde hair and left the room quietly.

Leaving a very apprehensive Cynthia to collect herself and prepare to carry out her and her lover's devious plans.

First on the list. James Paul McCartney.

\------------------------  
Paul stood outside his new office and his heart leapt in his chest when he heard noises coming from the inside. His hand started shaking as he turned the knob.

As he stood inside he cleared his throat to hint to whoever was in their that he had arrived in _his office._

"Paul McCartney," A familiar voice said. "I've been expecting you."

Relief washed over the feeling of fear when the chair swung round to reveal Paul's bushy-eyebrowed friend.

"Sorry 'bout scaring ya." He said when he noticed the ashen look on his friend's face. "I just always wanted to do tha'."

"George! What you doing here?"

"Came to see you of course, ain't seen me best mate since you went to posh business school." George said leaning back on the chair and putting his feet on the desk.

"I know 'm sorry, Geo. It's all been chaotic y'know since..." The older man said shuffling awkwardly.

"It's cool, that means we got a shitload to catch up on!"

"Yes, yes but not now _I've got a shitload_ to do." Paul said shooing George out.

"I thought you're aristocrat pals taught you not to swear!" George said jokingly gasping.

"You're rich too!"

"Not as rich as you mate!" George said his voice fading as he walked through the office corridors.

Paul sat down in the leather swivel chair and turned it around to face the windows that were built in on one side of the wall.

He looked at all of Liverpool (the parts that were in view). For once it was a clear sunny day and as he looked at it he noticed how important this job was. Penns was the pinnacle of Liverpool without it Liverpopl couldn't be home. And look! This young 21 year old was in charge of all that. He was important the  people who live in those row of house, the people who strolled in the park and even for those cheap block of flats in the distance. When Paul closed his to let all of this new information sink in he realised something. He couldn't let Liverpool down he was going to run this music hall.

And nothing was going to get in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...that's unless most of your employees are probably out to get you. XD


	3. Three

Paul opened his eyes and looked at his dad's notes which proved to be a difficult task due to his terrible handwriting. He had a lot to do on his first day but before he did all this business stuff he thought it would be best to get to know the staff.

Thank God for his dad being so prepared he had a list of the staff and what Paul needed to do. First on the list his new assistant Cynthia Powell.

He picked up the black phone on his desk and dialled the reception's number. He waited a few seconds for it to be picked up, then he paused. He had the feeling someone was watching him, then he heard rapid movements and the felling went away.

Paul was so distracted he couldn't hear the sound of the receptionist calling him. "Hello? Hello? Mr McCartney?"

"Oh yes sorry Pattie... can you tell Cynthia to come into my office please?"

"Sure thing."

"Oh yeah can you send John up too." Paul said spinning in his chair and smiling as he thought about his new friend.

"Which one?" Pattie said chewing gum and staring at her nails

"I dunno the one with erm... messy hair." Paul tried to think of other ways to describe him. "...er he was in the lift with me earlier."

Pattie almost choked on her gum and quickly composed herself. "O-ok." She said nervously in a whisper.

\------------------------

Cynthia stood up from her small office and straightened her skirt. Paul wanted to see her. She knew what she needed to do but she was really nervous. John had given her instructions, and if they wanted the plan to work she needed to follow specific instructions.

She knocked on the door three times before opening it. Paul gestured for her to sit down and she did what she was told.

"Hello you must be erm... Cynthia." Paul asked looking at her smiling brightly like a puppy.

 _'Woah he does look very young'_ Cynthia thought. "Yes I am. May I ask why you called me here?" She said getting a little more comfortable.

"I thought since we're gonna be working together we should go over these business affairs together." Paul said rummaging through his papers. "Now where did I-"

"Hello Paul?" He was interrupted by the sound of his friend walking into the room. Cynthia began to relax even more when John walked in she could now leave all the hard work to him.

"Oh hi there John!" Paul stood up from his awkward kneeling position on the floor. "I was just looking for some of my papers. But I just made a mess of everything."

John though for a millisecond and an incredible thought came to mind. "How about Cynthia gives you a tour of Penns and I'll organise all of your papers."

Paul was excited at the idea but then realised something. "What about the business aff-"

"Don't worry about it you can do that this afternoon." John said already showing Paul out of the door. "Plus how can you work properly when you haven't seen the while place or met alot of people."

\-------------------------

For the rest of Paul's morning he spent time looking around the buildings and meeting all the staff who were all very friendly. He had barely remembers what any of the place looked like because he was always away too much to see his father's work.

When he and Cynthia had reached the final and best part of the tour Paul almost squealed with excitement. The music hall was so big.

Paul wanted to dance around in the middle of the stage, but he realised how unprofessional that would be so he refrained from doing so. He couldn't wait for the show tonight! Then he could unwind. Just a little bit.

Now though it was lunch time and the first person he saw on his way out to grab a bite was George. Not surprisingly. He was standing outside smoking a cigarette looking a little impatient.

"What the hell you walking so slowly for then?" George said. "I'm fucking starved.

Paul shook his head at George and walked off leaving him behind. "Oi!" George called. "Wait for me please." He now was running after his friend.

\-------------------------------------

"So then George," Paul said after chewing his sandwich. "you seen the hot receptionist?" George's eyes widened in shock and he kicked Paul's leg from under the table. "What in God's name was that for. I only asked you a question!" Paul squealed.

"Paul... you're not..." George hinted, but decided to continue in a whisper as he looked at the confusion on Paul's face. " _Queer?_ "

The older man almost choked on his sandwich. They both knew that being homosexual was so dangerously illegal. Talking about it was taboo, especially in public.

"The receptionist is a girl George I don't think that makes me... queer." Paul said in a rushed whisper.

"The one I saw was a lad but if we are going to mention it we need a code name." When he realised Paul wasn't giving any ideas he went and suggested one himself. "Fart."

Paul slapped his hand against his face when George started giggling madly. Paul left the correct amount of money for the meal and he and his younger friend started to walk their way back to Penns.

"What do you think of farts then George?" Paul asked after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

"I dunno... I guess I don't mind them but it is a little weird." Paul hummed in agreement. "I don't get it though... I mean how do they even do it."

Paul blushed very quickly. "You mean how do farts have sex?" The boys began laughing when a group of people behind them heard their remark and have them puzzled stares.

The two of them laughed all the way back to Penns. It took a little longer than he'd of thought because thy decided to make a quick (an hour long) pit stop at the park, then to some shops.

When they had finally arrived at Penns they said their goodbyes. But Paul's smile was wiped off of his face when he had notice the time was almost six. He hadn't done any of his work and the show started very soon.

\-------------------------

John Lennon sat on the bus making his way back to work today. In all honesty he felt like skipping work and going in in the morning.

He had a feeling today might actually be a good day. Plus seeing as it was his mate Ringo's birthday tomorrow it would be a good idea to talk to him at work and find out what he would actually want.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I feel as if I haven't updated in years, sooo what d'you think?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I will update every few days as I've pre-written the chapter. Also, I want to catch this up to what I've written on Wattpad, in the meantime you can check my other story ;)

John got off the bus, sighed and looked at his watch that read  _19:33_. He was an hour and thirty-three minutes late. It was typical, everyone knew by now that John's work basically started at half seven seeing as it was near to impossible for him to arrive on time

_Yeah ...maybe I shouldn't have stopped for chips. And Ice Cream._

He forcefully swung the door open, and the receptionist looked at him before rolling her eyes. "'ello Pattie tits looking wonderful as usual." He said leaning his elbow on her desk, trying to look at her paperwork. John was slightly confused as the blonde haired girl usually would have been grabbing her bag in preparation to leave to go home, as John was basically the alarm for the end of her shift. But he just dismissed his useless observation. "Hello to you too John? You're back again, I'd of thought you had got fired." She said with  a daring look in her eyes.

"They can't possibly do that, 'm too handsome. What's that then?" He snatched it off the desk before she could even blink. He couldn't see the swirly handwriting with his terrible eyesight.He carelessly threw the papers back on the wooden desk "Forget it I can't read the bloody thing anyways." Without saying goodbye to Pattie John walked rapidly to the lift remembering he was late for work at the well-known _Penny Lane Music Hall._ Or Penns as most liked to call it.

**********  
 _John smirked to himself when he came across a building that had been in Liverpool for as long as anyone could remember._

_The Penny Lane Music Hall._

_John knew that they had a huge kitchen and many rooms in here, even offices for business related matters! For him it was a perfect place to hide for the rest of the day before going off to face his aunt._

_So he ended up walking cautiously around the side of the main building to see if he could climb anywhere. The only window within his reach was one near the ground, but it was locked and he didn't have anything to smash the window open with and even if he did he'd end up causing a scene._

_And the other one was too high up, but he had no other choice, he grabbed a nearby tyre and stacked it on another one. He jumped up on top and stretched to grab the windowsill, it was a bit hard to get high up since he still hadn't reached his full height._

_When he pulled himself up with great force he sat on the edge looking over the concert hall. The 12 year old thought it was the best thing he'd ever seen._ _There were dozens of leather red seats spiralling around the room connecting to intricately patterned walls. There was a large stage up front with an ornate arch complimenting the shape._

_John was astounded but didn't have time to take it all in because he got a shock when a man called out to him._ _"What are you doing up there boy?!" The man shouted causing John to panic and fall from the ledge onto to one of the seats._

_The man's eyes widened in fear for the boy's life he ran over to John who's face was scrunched up in pain._ _He sighed and picked John up and examined his grazed knee and swollen wrist. "What_ _were you doing lad? Aren't you meant to be in school?" He said as he brushed the dust off of the boy._

_John looked up at him examining his features. This man had dark brown hair  with streaks of  grey, light brown hair and had oddly shaped eyebrows for a man, which amused him. "I was climbing in here because I don't wanna go t'school." He said shyly feeling slightly embarrassed._

_The man was debating on whether to punish the boy or not. He stared at the small, scruffy looking boy who put his head down in sheer apprehension, then he thought of his own son roughly the same age as him._

_"Come with me then son," He reached out and wrapped his arm around John's shoulder they walked of. "Tell me what's your name? I'm James McCartney, well people call me Jim, that's my father's name you see."_

_"I'm John Lenno- wait where are you taking me? I'm not in trouble I'm I?" John asked looking up nervously at him._

_"No we are just taking a walk John." He said laughing at his innocence. "If you are going to play truant then you might as well do something useful." John paused in hesitation as they approached a lift but soon after trusted the man followed him in._

_***********_

After a while of cleaning the floors while whistling an improvised tune, he  stopped what he was doing. He paused because he heard the muffled sounds of trumpets blaring angrily and quickly.

John's eyes widened at the realisation of the show beginning, in all honesty he thought most of them were dull and granny like, and for some reason people enjoyed it. John wasn't really into the music scene, this was because England was quite bleak, they didn't have their own unique style it was too conservative. However he began to run through the dimly lighted hallways anyways.

That's England for you it's a grey and dull place where people sound like they wear diamonds but most only own a few diamantes. And everyone listens to the same music, an watches the same black and white censored shows.

John stopped, rested his hands on his thighs and panted, his hair becoming damp with sweat. He couldn't figure out if because if his rushed cleaning, the summer heat or just his running. Because the only thought running through his head was:

_I gotta get out of Liverpool._

_\-----------------------------_

Paul's head smacked head against the desk causing him to curse in pain and wake up more. He was currently in his office organising the papers that John didn't do a very good job of sorting. Maybe he did, but with Paul and his OCD qualities it wasn't good enough.

He felt exhausted and he couldn't go on, he really wanted to see the late night show since he already missed the evening one but he it was too much for one night.

So he decided to head on home and maybe Linda could comfort him. She always knew how to with her warm and comforting smile.

\------------------------------------

Richard Starkey or Ringo as most preferred to call him was another worker at Penns. He was pretty much liked by all with his soft blue eyes, sense of humour and laidback nature. But he took more of a shine to John, and he questioned that every single day.

Especially with what he was about to experience now and the next few weeks.

"R-Ritchie! Ringo darling, what are you doing don't be such a bummer come to  Papa Johnny my boy!" John called echoing through backstage as he was searching for his little friend in the dark. Ringo rolled his eyes while checking off a box on his clipboard "I'm here now keep your voice down. There's a show going on." He whispered and began strolling towards him to meet him in the middle, that way he would wander around like the maniac he was for a little less longer.

John smiled now standing in front of his friend who he could just about see flicking through pages on the clipboard, his serious expressions visible as some light from main stage shone though the red curtains. "So 7th July tomorrow..." He trailed on hoping Ringo would help him out. But the shorter man knew what he was trying to do and wasn't giving in. This year it was up to John to figure out what he was getting Ringo for his birthday.

So he only hummed in agreement pretending he wasn't paying attention but was fiddling with ropes. John was about to open his mouth to us charm to talk it out of Ringo but was interrupted by a deep familiar voice. "John we need to have a word outside, quickly." Stuart said squinting his eyes which was a habit, John noted, that they shared.

The auburn haired man only raised and eyebrow but he nodded and followed his friend outside.


	5. Five

The summer sky was painted with iridescent hues from the orange setting sun, peeking through the buildings in the distance.  John lighted a cigarette, leaning against the wall waiting for Stuart who was talking to Pattie or something.  He had finished his shift as the clock went eleven but as always he enjoyed hanging out til sunrise.  He was curious to know as to why Stu wanted to see him out here; he'd been blanking John for the past week or so. 

He decided to walk into the lobby of the building to investigate what his friend was doing to take so long; being impatient he couldn't wait, even if it was three minutes. As he opened the revolving doors he saw Stu talking as he stood very close to Cynthia, and Pattie wasn't there at all. Stuart quickly backed away and went towards the entrance to join his friend; John winked at Cyn but only received a small smile in return. He brushed it off as lady problems and exited side by side with Stu.

John took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Hey Stu mate how's it goin'?" The older of the two greeted warmly as they stepped out of the doors, Stuart only shrugged in return, and started to dig through his jacket pocket, when his hand appeared again, he revealed a huge wad of cash. Before John could even comment on how his friend got a hold of it, the other man began. "Listen John, I just wanted to say thank you, y'know, for being a mate. I think ye deserve a holiday, so go on take it." Stuart moved his hand (that was full of cash) towards John cajoling him to accept the offer.

John stared at him with a doubtful look, its not that he was sceptical about his friend, he just couldn't agree to taking that amount of cash. John was so used to just about living on the money he had, he couldn't suddenly take a bunch of it as a treat.  It was cruel almost. John taking a holiday and being introduced to the high life only for it to be snatched away as soon as he came back to Liverpool.

"I cant take it Stu, John pleaded. you're too generous. Thanks for the offer though, you're a real mate." And before Stuart could protest, which the older one was almost certain he would do, John stamped on his cigarette until the orange embers had disappeared, then walked back in to Penns. Stuart stood, and sighed angrily at his friends obstinacy.

\-----------------------------

Ritchie was sitting on a stool backstage, drumming on his lap, as he waited for the intermission to finish so he could get back to work. He was startled out of his trance by Johns approaching footsteps. Ringo began questioning why John looked so flustered, and in a rush. He really wanted to know wanted to know what they were talking about, as he saw an odd look in Stu's eyes.

"You alright John?" Ringo began as the other man dragged a stool to sit opposite him. John completely ignored his question and avoided meeting his sapphire eyes to dip his hands into the bag behind him. As he reached out again he was holding a six pack of beer and waved it in his friend's face. The older one smiled, and grabbed one from his friend before taking a few sips. They spent the next two hours, after when the show had finished, laughing and joking as if they hadn't a worry in the world.

After watching the show and allowing his friend to distract him from working, Ringo's shift ended. This left John with not much to do but wander around, he didn't feel like going home, or finishing his cleaning and he wasn't really in the right mindset for socializing with his night time colleagues. But there was something that had patrolling around in his mind, he had had a weeks holiday and today was his first day back. Usually he would have passed by or would have been greeted by the CEO Jim McCartney, Jim was a dear friend and mentor to John. The only reason he probably wasn't fired was because they got along so well. As John explored for a while trying to find him, a smile crept on his face thinking about him. Jim was like a dad to him after losing his Uncle George to dementia, he was still alive, just not doing very well.

He suddenly felt like he was in a good mood, as the thought of seeing Jim perked him up, so he decided to see if his girlfriend Cynthia was still around. As he explored the vast corridors he passed her office and found that she wasn't in there. There was someone, a blonde, but it wasn't her, this girls shape was thinner and slightly taller. Her hair looked more of a natural blonde than a dyed one. She was whispering on the phone and as a curious person, John quickly decided he was going to eavesdrop. He didn't have anything better to do, and Jim could wait.

So to make himself more inconspicuous he walked to the broom closet (a few paces from her office) took dustpan and brush, and to hide his face he stole a hat that belonged to the other cleaner, Fred. When he felt satisfied he rushed into the office and almost made a lot of noise tripping over the door stopper. However he managed to the slip in without her noticing, and when she did, she carried on without paying much mind since he was a mere cleaner. Yet if she knew it was John she certainly would panic.

"...cant be serious... yes but are you sure its the right decision? You've been with him for so long... I know but you've been through a lot together is it right to break it off? " When John got a closer look he realised it was Pattie! But she seemed different, she looked very distressed. Her usual milky, youthful skin, crystal blue eyes and neat long hair was gone. It had replaced by unpleasantly pale skin, greyish eyes and hair that was all over the place. Whatever was going on was certainly eating away at her.

"Ok... I'm sorry, I'm not sure about this anymore... no please I don't... I know I have no choice. Isn't there another w-" Pattie waited another few seconds but there was no answer from the other end of the receiver. She ran a hand through her messy hair groaned as she slammed it down, and marched out passing John, without acknowledging his existence.  

John shook his head and strolled out temporarily abandoning his search for Jim. He took the lift and walked past the reception which was now dark due to the absence of Pattie, the only person was the male receptionist who was only there at nights, and was basically a security guard for the lobby. Right now the best idea of the night was drinking beer with an old pal but it was about to be topped off with another cigarette in the cool night air.

\----------------------------

Laughter filled the hall as the red curtains closed marking the end of yet another show. Waves of clapping followed and joining in with the audience as they applauded was George. He wasn't a regular but coming to Penns was even more interesting since his lifelong best friend was in charge. First day and Paul wasn't doing too badly.

When George scanned the audience for Paul and realised he wasn't there, he suddenly felt guilty at the thought of him being cooped up in his office alone when he could have watched the performances. As people poured out of the theatre hall the young man had decided on going to search for his friend. Maybe he was backstage, he thought.

It was very dark and dimly lit backstage so he had a lot of trouble navigating his way through, causing him to bump into something. Then nanoseconds after he heard a clatter of items drop on the floor, which made him believe he crashed into someone. His beliefs were confirmed when a flash of light reflected off of his face, and he saw a short man with blue eyes scanning him whilst holding a flashlight.

"What you doin' 'ere?" The man asked his eyes squinting as he watched the younger, skinnier man. George felt slightly intimidated and was suddenly feeling shy as he was never good in confrontational situations. "I- er... I'm-" His stuttering and awkward expressions was interrupted by the sound of the shorter ones laughter. "Relax lad, 'm only messing' with ya. I work here but I don't mind you exploring, Ringo's me name by the way." He held out his hand for George to shake as he babbled on.

George calmed slightly and shook the mans hand, feeling an instant trust and liking towards him. He even found his annoying habit of babbling  quite amusing, George considered this as the birth of a new friendship, although Ringo didn't think much of this encounter at the time as he met all sorts of people during the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while! Double chapter as an apology. :)


	6. Six

At night you could often see what everyone truly is. That is because during the day, you could be seen, if you are seen clearly by people you are more prone to act in a certain way. For example if you are out at school or work you are most likely to behave differently when you get home. This is what he saw in the night, he could see people truly be themselves and not what they are labelled as or what society expects and shapes them to be like. It's probably why John always took nightshifts.

But in a simpler way of putting it John loved to get the gossip, he enjoyed knowing what crazy stuff went on at Penns - it was pretty much the only exciting things that happens to him. But tonight was completely by chance, he walked into the alley so he wouldn't be caught skivivng off work. The grotesque smell lingering caused the man to scrunch his nose up in disgust, but he just ignored it and leaned on the wall and continued smoking.

He heard the muffled movements coming further up which startled him out of his daze, at first he assumed it was a cat, but the sounds from the back of the alley became louder and was soon recognisable as voice. John came to the conclusion that it was probably a prostitute  but then the voices became louder and sounded rushed and angry. So he turned around to investigate further and spotted two silhouttes, he couldn't actually make out who they were, however one voice sounded softer and more feminine.

They were arguing or negotiating, John couldn't really decide, and seemed to be trying to exchange something. He inched closer and the moon reflected down and one (the one with the gentler voice) disappeared while one was left holding a purple envelope. He furrowed his brows, put out his cigarette, and stalked off inside. The previously warm night air was replaced with a cool breeze, a bit too cold for his liking, too be honest he'd rather do the rest of his cleaning.

\------------------------------

John sighed contentedly when he realised he had one more office to clean, after this maybe he's find out what happened to Jim.  He didn't bother knocking on the door and just walked in , assuming no one in their right mind would think about working at such a late hour, but he was wrong. He walked in and could make out a faint figure, he was wearing his glasses however it was really dark, after having tapped around on the wall for the light switch and pressing it he was welcomed with a scowl.

The person who gave it to him was young man, he was quite young, around the same age as John if not then even younger. He had a round chubby face, complimented by his doe hazel eyes, arched eyebrows and plump red lips, topped off with a mop of messy hair. He was good looking but was also evidently exhausted by the dark bags weighing down his eyes, John had quickly decided on not commenting on the other one's rude expression as he took into account what seemed to be a terrible day.

So he unpacked his equipment on the trolley he was pushing around and got on with his cleaning, his back turned away. From his peripheral vision he could see that the man was no longer frowning at him but was dialling a number using the phone on his desk.  "Hello love?... Oh I'm sorry I woke you up, I just thought you might be worried... that's ok. I won't be back 'til the morning because I've got to much work. ... Alright bye Lin, I need to call my da'." He smacked the phone down and rubbed his eyes, and resting his head on the table for a few moments before picking up the receiver and dialling again.

"Da'? Oh Mike hey... how's da' doing? He can't come to the phone. No it wasn't very important anyways... when he's up tell him I'll call to check if he's doing better, ... yeah bye." Then the man resumed position of burying his head on the desk and groaned.  Having probably felt as crappy as this young man had been John, although not what he was paid for set down his equipment, leaned on one of the drawers and play psychiatrist and tried to initiate a comforting conversation.

"Ye look like shite." Came out of his voice in a strong scouse accent, that made the man on the desk jump in terror. This made John panic too, because the darker haired one's eyes were bloodshot and red making him look scary and unapproachable, but after the shock his expression quickly switched to "excuse me?". Causing John to snicker for a bit. "As in ye look like ye had a rough day," He looked at the desk which had a notebook on it revealing the stressed man's name to be: "Paul."

Paul rested his chin on the arms, which were folded on his wooden desk, and murmured quietly in agreement. John's words was only an understatement to describe what his day had been like. "S'not like you'd understand anyways." John just furrowed his eyebrows quizzically as he was oblivious to Paul's attempt at malice. "What do you mean?" The man at the desk simply rolled his eyes in disdain. "I mean it's  business, you're only a cleaner, you wouldn't understand."

He stopped fiddling with his auburn hair and looked at the other one. He was completely disturbed. John knew that a cleaning wasn't the ideal  job, nor did it earn you the greatest amount of respect, but no one ever had dismissed him as irrelevant. This really annoyed him, knowing that this man was going through a tough day he tried to cool down and ignore this comment.

But it didn't stop bothering him.

"So?" John questioned and his face began to heat up as he saw Paul lazily roll his eyes. "You're just a pompous twat, with a stick high up your arse how would you know anything about what I do." Paul's face paled in shock, insults were very rare he was always treated with utmost respect.

"I could have you fired for your behaviour." He responded trying to act tough ny scaring the cleaner. John however didn't even flinch, he wasn't affected in the slightest and only scoffed. "Yeah like ol' Jim would have that!"

Fury began to rise in the younger of the two and was determined not to be showed up by this man. He also began to wonder if this man knew his father personally. "Well ol' Jim is not here! So I could have you fired at the click of my finger." The auburn haired man leant both hands on the desk and face was inches from the other's nose. "I could destroy this company, by opening my mouth." And with that he stormed out of the office, abandoning his cleaning equipment.

\------------------------------

George was glad to have gone to the show that evening, as it wasn't very often he made a friend. Speaking of friends  he remembered  in that moment he was meant to be looking for his, he knew that Paul would be cooped up in his office. When George went to visit earlier at lunch, he'd already found his friend to be occupied.

Since it was late he probably wasn't, on the contrary when the scrawny boy arrived outside the office, he could hear alot of commotion. He could have easily gone in there to break it up, however today he felt like just leaving it. No matter what he did, Paul would find a way to push him away - even after all that George does for him. He'd been doing this for years.

So he settled on heading home to the large house he shared with his parents and siblings. When he left the main doors he cursed as he realised he didn't call his parents. As it was really late and he only just turned twenty, he knew he was going to get a serious telling off. He groaned as he lit a cigarette, he really yearned for independence but how would he ever get it if he was constantly going to be treated like a kid.

His mother is so protective it's suffocating, he even thought it was her fault he could never get a girlfriend. Unlike Paul. All the girls practically threw themselves at him, and he in the shadow - of course. As he passed the alley, mocking him was a couple having a heated make out session which made hin cringe. It was that blonde girl Cynthia who worked at Penns.

"Fuck it!" George mumbled. He put out his cig, and turned back into Penns, if he kept crawling back home to his family at the end of the night he'd never be free. He'd do that for the rest of his life abd he couldn't let that happen.


	7. Seven

The people of Liverpool awoke to be met with the sky crystal blue, and the weather not to hot or cold, but warm with a slight breeze. The perfect way to start the day. It was a quiet morning with little cars or people about, most sleeping in as the beginning of summer holidays approached. On the way to work Stuart patted his pockets around in search for his identification badge, but his attempts were fruitless as he was left finding nothing but his keys, gum and a slip of paper. He knew it would possibly be a busy day, of organising people and workers, as it was Saturday and kids and their families would be attending tonight's big show. He sighed but nevertheless, felt as if nothing could spoil his mood.

\-------------------------------------

Smack! John woke up to the feeling of pain as his body collided with the floor in the office of his close friend - Stuart. He rubbed his red, swollen eyes in pure exhaustion. After his brief encounter with prissy Paul he wasn't bothered and decided on roaming the halls for the rest of the night, leaving him without a sufficient amount of sleep. So instead of getting up and taking to the bus to his flat before tonight's shift he stood up, sat on the swivel chair and adjusted his sleeping position so he would be more comfortable.

Yet less than ten minutes before he could sink deeper into his dreams that would be forgotten as soon as he woke, his eyes shot open when he heard the sound of whistling and footsteps approaching. "John?" Stuart asked as he looked at his friend in surprise, like a deer caught in headlights. "W-What you doin' here?" John stretched out his limbs whilst yawning, before lazily replying to his friend.

"I was trying to get me some sleep," Stuart moved away from his shocked position and began placing his bags and it's contents on his desk. Then pushed John's feet off so he could achieve this task. "I guess some people have no respect." John continued Stu only paused to look at John who was wriggling his toes, and scrunched his nose up in disgust.

"Go home John, you stink, you're tired and you've got a shift tonight." John got up abruptly pretending to be hurt by his friends words and headed towards the door. "Fine! I see where I'm not wanted." He dived alright hand into his pocket in search of his glasses. After putting them on he noticed Stuart's ID in the corner of the room. He turned his head to see if his friend was watching, and after confirming Stu was too busy looking at a stupid notebook he picked the badge up and left the office _._

_\--------------------------------------------_

_They walked through the many vast corridors and as John was looking up he could see the photos, hung up on the walls, of famous people who had performed there. Like Vera Lynn, Glenn Miller and his orchestra and even Louis Armstrong!_

_John knew that this was a very popular venue he, Aunt Mimi and his Uncle George were lucky to go twice before and he loved it._

_He was too busy looking at photographs to notice Jim had left the room at come back with plasters for John's knees. Jim gently rubbed the plaster over where John hurt himself to make sure it would stay on._

_"Now let's move on to the offices I've got a little job for you to do for me." They walked through the corridors in comfortable silence until they reached a store cupboard._

_John stared at Jim with a puzzled expression. Jim smiled at him and gave him a dustpan, a brush, a cloth and a duster._

_"I need you to clean all the offices for me and when you've done that you can go to the canteen and have as many snacks as you want. After that you can clean more and meet me back here." John nodded distractedly mainly thinking about all the food in the canteen._

_Jim walked back into the office leaving John to get to work._

\-----------------------------------------------

John didn't even mind the fact he was humming one of the many annoying classical music songs his aunt always blasted out on the record player. Then he remembered how he hadn't visited his aunt and uncle in a while, he felt bad. This dampened his mood until he smelt the enticing aromas coming from the canteen, he hadn't even noticed he did not eat anything properly but now the groans coming from the pit of his stomach reminded him. So John found himself to be wandering to the canteen.

George stood gloomily in the one of the many hallways hoping to run into Paul at some point. He was hungry but was trying to ignore the grumbles of his stomach seeing as he couldn't get food. He needed to be a worker to do so. All he could do was hope that Paul might decide to magically walk past.

Then he noticed someone walk past, it wasn't hard not to as barely anyone was walking by seeing as it was still early in the morning. The person he spotted was the lad that Paul was arguing with the night of the show. The shyness within himself restricted him from talking to the person in question. But he didn't even need to try. As he walked past George he nodded and smiled.

"You look like crap." John began with his usual bluntness. "But don't take it personally, everyone usually does this time of day." George smiled in return and found this guy to be quite funny. "Care to join me for brekkie? It might ail the crapness." George had no say for John was already leading the way to the canteen. He had made a friend without having to say anything! This gave George the feeling that this man was probably as talkative as Ritchie.

When George entered he felt as if he would die. His craving for something to eat doubled, and his anger at Paul for not showing up tripled. "I'm John by the way. Not really important, I must warn you, just a cleaner."

George wasn't sure if he should shake the man's hand or not, but went with the latter. "I'm er... George."

"Really? You don't seem to be sure." John joked as they stood in the queue.

"But I'm not very important either, I'm a student. Not that I enjoy it."

When they quickly reached the front of the queue John shoved an ID badge in George's hand before the younger one could even react. And George quickly understood and wrapped the fabric attached to the badge around his neck. It read J.Lennon He thought that if this was John's badge what badge was John using to get his breakfast.

\--------------------------

After having a filling breakfast, the two new friends were sat at a table at the very back, laughing and being immature.  When George finally stopped his uncontrollable fit of giggles he concluded on bringing up a more serious topic. "Er... John? I saw you arguing with someone yesterday, what was it about?"

John leant back and scoffed. "Who Paul?" He took a moment to recollect what happened before explaining the events to his friend. George blinked at John not believing a word that escaped his lips, then he looked at John and saw he was serious.

"I-I can't believe Paul would say that. He isn't malicious to anyone."

"You know 'im?" They both got up to throw the leftovers and the big mess they made, John making most of it as they threw wrappers at each other and unsuspecting victims. "Yeah he's been my best mate for years, but he has been acting a little off and he won't tell me why." John shrugged as he put the last of the rubbish into the bin and they both headed out. 

"I don't think the problem is necessarily with him, I think it's with this pl-" He stopped when they walked into Paul who was heading towards the canteen. It was an awkward few seconds until John regained his composure. "I'll tell yer later at the show Georgie." He was about to walk off but then Paul chimed into the conversation.

"If it isn't almighty John, the useless cleaner."

"Oh go away, don't you have a failing business to run?"

"Failing? People don't go down to London for their entertainment nor do they go there when they visit England. Because of this music hall everyone comes to Liverpool. So I'll have you know it isn't failing."

"For now." Paul rolled his eyes and thought this was the most stupid thing anyone could ever say, justifying his thoughts on John. "If I was you I'd keep a close eye on the people working with you, those you meet. I may be young but I've been working here for ten years, business isn't as dandy as you think."

The twenty-two year old cleaner walked off, not before getting up one on Paul. "I'd watch your bird if I were you. Cause if I were her I'd cheat on you too!" George just stood there and backed away slowly before the situation could escalate any further, however he did find it quite funny the way John insulted him. Paul was his best friend but he had no right to treat John the way he did, he barely knew the guy. The hour George spent with him taught him that John was a very smart, and hilarious person, if only Paul could see it. George knew they probably could get along.


	8. Eight

As George backed away he accidentally bumped into a dishevelled girl who was almost running inside. The twenty year old was stunned as he  ended up knocking her over. "Oh Christ!" He said as he was pulling her up, with a bit force. "I-I didn't know you were there, sorry." Pattie was a bit surprised with the level of force she was pulled with, but nevertheless she stood up. "It's alright," she said as she straightened her skirt. "It's my fault. I've just had a busy week, I'm a bit absent..."

George smiled. He found her very pretty, so much he was lost for words, his shyness came out again. She had silky and long blonde hair. She was staring at him with such vivid blue eyes, and was smiling at him with her teeth which had a small gap that suited her pleasantly.

"W-why are you laughing?" George asked a little worriedly, thinking he had done something stupid to embarrass himself. Pattie giggling a little more as she pointed to his feet, to show him he was standing on a man's foot. He was so distracted he didn't notice he was standing on someone's foot. "Oh I'm so sorry!" The man nodded a bit and limped off slightly to work. George and Pattie watched him walk off before laughing.

"I'm er... George." He nodded at her. And a few seconds later mentally cursed himself, wishing he had chose to shake her hand instead. "Pattie, I'm the receptionist." They stood in an awkward silence for a while. George wondered if he'd already screwed this up. But his worries soon faded. "Do you want to help me with my work?" She asked shyly. "I don't know if you have anything to do  but-"

"I'd be glad to help." George smiled as he followed her to her desk.

\------------------------

John took Stuart's advice and got on the bus to his flat. But as he thought about the moulding walls, the cramped spaces and the   huge amount of clutter. He suddenly didn't find going back there appealing. Maybe he could visit his aunt and uncle? Or maybe Cynthia?

John decided on the latter seeing as if he stayed on the bus he could go straight to Cyn's but if he went to visit his former guardians he would have to change buses. Being too exhausted to do the latter, he leant back on his seat, as many workers and schoolchildren got on, and waited for his stop.

\-------------------------

When Paul sat down in his office, he pondered on the insult that was just thrown at him. Did John even know Linda? Was he having an affair with Linda? Paul quickly dismissed this thought, concluding it was a step too far, yet he still kept it at the back of his mind. He swung around the chair as it helped him think, especially with something as odd as what John had been saying.

He chewed on the end of his pen and began to think more. Who did this John person think he was? The twenty-one year old abruptly got up and walked out of his office. The thoughts spreading through his head like a wildfire, preventing him from thinking about his surroundings. So much he didn't even recognise his own fiancée walk right past him.

He checked his left and then his right, before opening the doors that led to the storage of hundreds of lives - on paper. He placed his pen on the metal file cabinet, and pulled one of the drawers open. This would be a very long task, he had no clue what John's surname was.

\----------------------

John jumped off of the bus and walked a few minutes to his girlfriend's front door. He looked forward to talking to her, as well as being in a romantic relationship they were very good friends. Whenever he had something on his mind he would confide in her, over cups of tea. He knocked on  the door several times, but received no answer, he knocked again. He knelt down and found a spare key under one of the plant pots, and chuckled. How clichéd of her

As he opened the door and entered the hallway, he began to think about the date. John checked the calendar that hung on the wall. He was pretty certain that she was off work today, he was even thinking of taking her to the show tonight for a date-

Crap! John thought It's Ritchie's birthday.

As John walked around the house, he frantically tried to come up with a gift. After scanning every room, he found there was no sign of Cyn. He groaned and stormed off to the bus stop. Again.

\-----------------------

"How d'you manage this?" George said, his forehead becoming damp with sweat and overall becoming very flustered. He was meant to be organising all of the messages and answering the phone calls, while Pattie did the rest. However, he failed to even do that. Pattie, who was also meant to be doing work, was on the brink of collapsing due to her fit of giggles. "It-It's easy once you get the hang of it."

George groaned and ducked underneath the desk to retrieve one of the many sheets of paper that managed to fall out of his clammy hands, much to Pattie's evident amusement. As he bent down he missed a very annoyed John stroll back into the place he tried to get away from not so long ago.

While he was out, he couldn't find anything that he knew his friend would even remotely like, on such short notice. For now he had to resort to his second plan. Right now he had to find Cynthia, wherever the hell she may be.

Not far away, Paul stretched his arm in a fruitless attempt  to reach to a file cabinet that way to high up for anyone. He didn't have the energy to go and get a step ladder, so he concluded on jumping onto the cabinet and grabbing as many folders as he could before his arms gave way. As Paul jumped, the metal collided with his knee, and his arms gave way as the pain spread through his body. Along with himself,  his body weight dragged down the cabinet and crashed onto the floor.

John's heart jumped in fear as he heard a series of crashes coming from a room a few paces in front of him. He looked around, and conveniently there was no one walking in the corridor, meaning he had to investigate. On his day off too! Well it wasn't, but John had decided he'll take the day off (without notice), simply just to despise Paul. He always used to take days off work and Jim would understand, as he began to think he wondered where Jim was. He'd have to ask around.

The door was ajar, so he slipped inside to find that one of the filing cabinets had fallen flat on the ground. What he didn't know was that Paul's hand was caught underneath it, but Paul was hidden behind the other side of it, that way he wouldn't be visible to him. John sighed and rubbed his head, for what felt like the millionth time that day. He was about to leave and call for help when something caught his eye, it was his record in a folder. He picked it up and wondered out, leaving Paul to wonder if his hand would ever be free.

\-----------------------

"Hey Geo!" John said as he jogged up to his new pal, who was still very much occupied at the front desk. "Wanna come with me for lunch?" George lifted his head up, and John almost laughed. The younger one's hair was sticking up in different directions, and his eyes looked bloodshot. "Erm sure..." George looked over at Pattie and longed to ask her to come too, but he had no idea how to say it.

John knew what he was thinking and said it for him. "And Pattie, you can tag along too."

The three of them walked along the street, with John in the middle, third wheeling of course. He found this to be a golden moment, Pattie and George both of whom he took pleasure in teasing, had started what he could only describe as a blossoming attraction towards one another. Oh what fun he was gonna have!

Later though, right now he needed someone to bitch to about Paul, and he needed help getting together a present for Ritchie. It needed to be something good; he felt like such a crap friend lately, and he felt the need to make up for it.  Ringo had always been there for him since school and whenever things were tough, he really wanted to show his gratitude. Then he could deal with that troublesome Paul.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

Linda waited outside the office, she was wearing shades to hide her blue eyes, and a scarf over her head to cover up her blonde hair. She was exhausted and had been wandering about all day long, several times she had managed to narrowly miss Paul. It was getting close to the evening now, and they were running out of time. If he didn't show up soon then-

"Ready to go Lin?" He asked with a big grin on his face, clearly excited about his plans coming jnto fruition. "Spare me the pleasantaries Stuart, can we do this quickly now?"

"Alright love, calm down." He linked arms with her and they walked off towards the elevator.

\----------------------

It was getting dark and John was growing even more impatient. At lunch, which was probably five hours ago, Pattie told him she'll let Cyn know about John's plans tonight. How long does it take for a girl to get ready? He stood outside of Penns, and looked up at the clear sky with boredom. He only looked down when he heard the rhythmic tapping of high heels and saw his girlfriend of five years approach him.

"Jesus Cyn! You took ye time." John said his face brightened, only because he could finally go inside. "Sorry," She mumbled quietly. "Lady issues-" John held up his hand and grabbed Cyn's with his other hand.

"Spare me the details love. But anyroad ye look gorgeous." She blushed, and smiled, and somewhere between her shy mumbles she uttered a thank you.

As they held hands walking, Cynthia began to feel odd in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. She had felt as if their romance died a long time ago, and she thought John didn't love her anymore.  She thought she didn't love John anymore, but the way her heart fluttered was telling her something different. This really confused her.

"'Ey Ritchie!" John let go of Cynthia's hand to wave at his friend who was standing and looking a bit puzzled. "C'mon we're gonna be late." Ringo was really lost, he was meant to be starting work right now. He didn't understand what emergency was happening right now, cause to him John looked perfectly fine.

"Hurry up mate! I ain't got all night, I need to get to work." Richard said to John, who was currently dragging his girlfriend along, not considering the fact she was wearing high heels. "Oh forget that!" He wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulder. "We're off to celebrate yer twenty-third."

\----------------------

A brass band began playing slow music, as many of the audience began entering the main hall. As John walked, leading the way for Cyn and Ringo, he spotted a young pair already seated and laughing. The other three sat down to join them. Cynthia on the far left, Pattie next to her, then John, George and Ringo.

They were all smartly dressed, clothed in black suits and the girls in long, modest and dark dresses. Ringo was originally in his work clothes and John gave him a tux, so he could change quickly. You wouldn't be seen dead wearing a casual attire here.

They all conversed with each other before the show began. The girls spoke casually, as they had known each other for a while, and Pattie was occasionally interrogated on the status between her and George.  And the boys kept going on about how much of a coincidence it was that they all happened to know each other.

That was until the lights dimmed and the red curtains fell. Moments later a loud brass blast echoed, and it played the opening notes to Glenn Miller's In the Mood. Then the curtains lifted to reveal a band playing their hearts out.

Everyone was tapping along, except for John, he didn't enjoy this kind of music. What entertained him was watching everyone's faces go red as they blow into their instruments, some of them looked like they were about to faint. This left John in a fit of giggles that made Ringo roll his eyes.

As the show went on John became increasing bored, clearly the other boys were too. The girls were to distracted watching the show, so the boys took the opportunity to borrow George's pen and paper, to play various games like noughts and crosses. They also played very inappropriate drawing games.

Meanwhile backstage Paul was admiring the concert. Tonight was a big night he would be speaking at the end of the performance. He had a big speech rehearsed so he could win over the crowd, his dad founded Penns so it would obviously be strange to everyone else as he was suddenly running the place. Today was all about easing everyone into it.

\-------------------------

"John!" Cynthia whisper shouted. When he wasn't replying she rapidly swapped seats with Pattie. "John!" Who was still facing his friends as he doodle on the paper. "What are you doing?" Before he could pass the paper down, so she wouldn't see, Cyn snatched off of his lap. She saw all of the dirty doodles and games they had been playing for the past few hours. When she looked at John with disgrace, he tried to put on a straight face but started snickering, as did the rest.

She didn't even bother saying anything and gave him back the paper. She tapped Pattie on the shoulder and they swapped seats again. The whole time that the song was being played she could only think about how much she despised John. Maybe it because he took her out for a date only to be ignored the whole time. They weren't even sitting next to each other! He seemed to be happily talking to Pattie, but not her. She just folded her arms together, as soon as the plan was done she'd be through with him.

All three boys were becoming increasingly restless, Ringo felt uncomfortable. He had been sitting still for a few hours, something he wasn't accustomed to. George's stomach was beginning to make wild noises, he wished that he had eaten snacks, but when they handed one out to him, John slapped it out of his hand. But he didn't question it, this was part of the package that came with John's random behaviour, he only gave him an angry scowl.

"Oi Richard Stinky, give me the playbill!" His arm stretched over George to reach for the little booklet off of his friend. He slipped on his thick black frames and his eyes quickly darted across the page, desperate to get a sense of relief. "Yes, thank God! Next performance is the last."  Silence spread across the room as everyone waited for the song to play, the lights dimmed even more.

And the velvet curtains raised very slowly, pissing off an impatient John even more. When the curtains were no longer in view, the figure of a lady and a man vere now visible. They were about to dance but didn't seem to want to, as the bothe of them were in freeze mode for a number of seconds.

"Fuckin' hell." John mumbled into his hands, but he didn't mumble quietly enough. The hall was very quiet and John's curse words could be heard to many people, evoking a gasp. The boys (and Pattie) tried so hard not burst out laughing. Ringo had the case of the giggles worse than the rest, as it looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. Cynthia just looked at them, feeling betrayed. They all seemed to get along fine, yet she felt like she was the black sheep.

The ballet dancing went on and the two dancers were dancing gracefully as the singer sang, and the orchestra played. That was until, one of the main violinists vomited on the ones who were playing in front. John's sleepy eyes suddenly shot open in time to see. He sat up from his former slouching position, and began to take a full interest on the stage. It was disgusting but it was so much more entertaining than whatever was going on before. The lady who was playing directly in front of him, screamed in horror and some of the other players vomited too.

The singer screamed and the dancers ran, the male dancer, was clearly not analysing his surroundings and ran into the set knocking it over and knocking himself out. As the set fell it manifested a very uneasy Paul. Among the many, gasps, screams and mutters John's voice could be heard. "This just got good!" He was glowing with excitement, this glow was visible to Paul, who stood apprehensively on the stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anywho, yes my dear readers I am alive! What a pleasant surprise considering I seriously felt like jumping out of the window last French lesson. I haven't been active as much as I'd like to because I'm lazy and no Beatle-worthy ideas have come to my head. Anyways I talk too much, but I will have to do more updates to prove I definitely have been - and still am- alive.


	10. Ten

Cyn, Pattie, John, Ringo and George made their way out of the Penny Lane Music Hall, colouring the grey streets with their laughter. They made their way to a local Italian restaurant to continue with their celebrations. Cynthia had also lightened up, she concluded it wouldn't be fair to ruin Ringo's night because of John's insufferable behaviour towards her. So they all sat down and talked about meaningless things. As they talked they ordered food, much to the boys' delight.

"Christ!" Ringo groaned. "'M starved." He sat back rubbing his stomach, as the massive pizza was placed in front of them. Before it could land on the table George grabbed a slice, but quickly let it go as the heat was too much for him. "How can you be in the mood to eat after what happened?" Pattie replied as she stared at the food feeling a bit nauseous. "Why not? All that laughing took me energy up." John answered high-fiving the boys.

Cynthia scowled, she couldn't help but make her disdain for her boyfriend's behaviour clear. "That was not funny, it was disgusting." She downed more wine, making her insides feel warmer. She hoped this would put her in the mood for celebrating.

"Yeah the vomiting part was, but the look on Paul's face was hilarious." John bit into his pizza hungrily, not at all affected by the topic. "And the dancer who ran into the set and knocked himself out." George attempted  to laugh but couldn't as his mouth was full of cheesey pizza, he ended up snorting wildly.In the midst of all the laughter and drinking, the lights dimmed. And a huge chocolate cake approached them causing Ringo to blush, knowing it was for him.

\--------------------------

Paul rushed down the street, everytime he saw a person in the distance he self consciencely adjusted his hat so he wouldn't be recognised. He knew it was stupid and no one on the street would probably recognise him - for now. The show was an absolute disaster, and it got worse, John saw it all. There was just no escape from that man.

Paul's thought was confirmed as he passed a restaurant, he saw John. He really began to dislike him, he was just a cleaner. A nobody. And he thought he was better than him. He wanted to fire the man, but couldn't find his permanent record. Therefore, he had no justifiable reason to do so. But as Paul looked a little closer he realised something.

The group, who was seated to the window, were made up of John, Cynthia, Pattie, George and a smaller man who worked backstage. They were all red in the face with laughter, and a cake was on the table, with the number 23 on it. Was it John's birthday? No, it was the smaller man, whose name Paul hadn't learnt. They all looked really happy, something that puzzled Paul.

He walked off into the direction of his house, maybe he could tell Linda what happened. She always knows the right things to say. But his thoughts quickly switched from his fiancée back to John. He became so jealous, John had friends. Sure Paul had friends too, there was George, and he had friends from school. But the ones from school weren't his true or close  friends, not the way George was. But now he was losing his one true friend too, and of all people to John. He'd have to make it up to George somehow, but he wasn't going to be civil with John.

The events of earlier brought up a terrible memory, that hurt Paul a lot.  
\-------------------

_Paul woke up to the unpleasant sound of someone retching outside his room. He stretched his legs and jumped out of his bed to investigate further. He was glad that unlike most kids he could stay at home for the next two months._

_You see, he could stay home because he didn't actually start and his new school until January. He'd be attending one of the best boarding schools in the world, thanks to the income his father was bringing in._

_But in actual fact, despite the privilege, he was dreading it. This school of his was in America so he would be moving to there and England back and forth until he turned eighteen. And after that he would end up going to university in Paris._

_So yes his whole life had been planned out for him, and he barely had a say in any of it, much to his dismay. But as a ten year old boy there wasn't much he could say, even if he did no one would listen to him._

_When he opened his room door he could see his mother crouched down in the corner vomiting out something red._

_"J-James," She croaked. "g-go and get your f-" She retched out once more unable to finish her sentence, Paul however knew what she was going to say, so he obediently rushed down their marble staircase._

\-----------------

Paul dug through his pocket and fished out his keys he opened the door and stepped inside. He didn't shout for Linda, he didn't have the energy to. So he just walked around searching for her, it was getting very late and he even doubted that she'd be awake.

As he wandered around the house he recalled first meeting her. He was seventeen and was studying in the US, and she was a school dropout. He was walking down the street and saw someone snapping pictures of him. He went over to complain, but was lost for words when he saw her up close. That memory made him smile. But his smile faded as he analysed their bedroom. The room was in a terrible mess and half of her clothes were missing. Maybe she was at her office?

He left the house and proceeded to look for her. He had a worrying thought, but subconsciously pushed it to the back of his head. Linda would never leave him. He knew that.

\------------------

John almost bounced home smiling, with his arm around  Cynthia's waist, they were a little tipsy and decided to walk home. Cynthia was carrying a large container with a huge slices of cake in it, they asked Ringo if he wanted to take it home, but their friend was too drunk to reply, so they settled on taking home the parts George couldn't get his hands on.

"Ooh Joohnn there's Helen!" Cynthia shoved the container in John's hand as she waddled to her friend on the other side of the pavement. John sighed and was too impatient, when she was drunk Cynthia wasn't aggressive or fun. She was talkative. The only reason John started to drink more at the restaurant  was because she was already drunk and was babbling like crazy, it was the only way he'd be sane. So instead of waiting around he made his way back home.

Paul, after failing to run into Linda at her office, decided to buy a bottle of wine and a six pack of beer to forget his recent troubles. His father would be so disappointed. All the money spent on his education and his needs, so he would be brought up to be a successful man, was  wasted. Here he was sitting in a dirty alleyway with a bottle of wine in one hand, and the other buried in the unidentifiable filth that was on the floor. The more he thought about it the closer he came to breaking down, and eventually he couldn't help the sobs that escaped his mouth.

These sobs were heard by John who was just about to use his key to enter the flat building. He went to the alleyway to investigate, and initially he thought it was a homeless person. He felt bad and brought out all the money in his pocket and placed it in front of him. He was about to leave, but the man on the floor looked up at him. John realised it was Paul from Penns. Even though this man had offended him beyond belief, something in the way his hazel doe eyes. Something in the way he was crying and was sat tiredly on the floor, struck a chord of empathy inside John.

Paul looked back down in embarrassment. But John continued to stare, his eyebrows knit together, as he thought deeply. Paul looked back up at him and John was already walking off, but the man turned around and gestured for Paul to follow. The latter was seriously reluctant, what if John was going to kill him. He didn't even know the man! But where else was he going to go? He had a home, a very nice one, but what was there for him? Certainly not Linda by the looks of it. So he got up and followed him into his flat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (⊙_⊙)
> 
> Bet you weren't expecting that!


	11. Eleven

Maybe it was the alcohol flowing in his system, maybe it was the high he got from all the laughing or maybe he just felt sorry for the man. All these were perfectly good reasons that could explain why Paul was in John's flat.

They walked inside in silence, John leading the way for an unsure Paul. The older of the two disappeared for a moment leaving Paul standing by the door. Paul looked around, he'd never seen anything like it in his life. John's flat was small, Paul had been used to living in luxury. The rooms were big, unnecessarily big albeit, but large enough to be comfortable.

Yet John's living room was small but it looked oddly cosy, his kitchen was connected to it, but it didn't have a wall separating. The walls were dirty and everywhere was in a mess, but it looked comfortable enough. John appeared again but was carrying a folded towel, he gestured for Paul to follow again and this time was lead into a bathroom. John handed the towel to Paul and left without saying anything.

Paul left the bathroom twenty minutes later already feeling better, on the couch there was a pair of pyjamas sprawled over the couch, and Paul took the chance to change into something. On the coffee table were pieces of cake, he didn't even realise how hungry he was until he took a bite. As he was scoffing his food down he didn't notice John standing in the doorway watching him strangely.

\--------------

"Geo, I ain't lying to ya!" John whisper shouted over the phone, trying not to wake a sleeping Paul. He paused for a bit to make sure he was still sleeping and was relieved to hear loud snores coming from the bedroom. "'E is here, listen to his snore." He waved the receiver in the direction of his room. "See!"

George groaned. He had no clue why John was shouting down the phone, it was the middle of the night, why was he getting so worked up? He was the one who invited Paul in the first place, so why was he acting as if this wasn't old news. "Uh huh... why's he in there?"

"I saw 'im in an  alleyway." There was another pause George took the opportunity to fill the silence. "What was 'e doing there?

"I dunno... 'e was sittin' there, crying. 'E looked so fucked up I thought he was a homeless man." John sighed, feeling more empathy, which irritated him beyond belief. George began to get concerned, he had no idea what Paul would do next. One show goes wrong and he sits on the street very depressed, George knew that Paul was sensitive but he didn't think it was that severe.

"John, I think you should watch h-"

"Mate I ain't no charity, you heard the way he insulted me. This is just a one night thing." John said frustratedly. "Please John. Just 'til we figure out what's going on with him. It can't just be the show." John groaned unnecessarily loudly, which hinted to the younger one he was agreeing. "G'night." George had a big toothy grin.

"Bastard." John slammed the receiver down and groaned again. His mind was battling between human decency and his heart desire. The latter of which was watching Paul suffer. He just stomped off to the kitchen  and hoped everything would be better in the morning.

\-------------------

In the middle of the night Paul woke up shivering, it was so cold. He sat in John's creaking bed, he got out of bed, for no reason. He wasn't expecting to find anything, the whole place was cold. Paul discovered it wasn't just him as his feet touched the ice like floorboard in the living room. He went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, hoping it would warm him up a bit.

He sat down slowly on the couch with tea in his hand, and winced each time the couch creaked. He really struggled to tell if John was sleeping or not, he was moving around alot and he wasn't snoring at all. Nevertheless Paul still sat down, sipping at his tea, watching the sleeping man. Paul wondered why John let him in.

It was odd. He seemed like the kind of person who enjoyed seeing their enemies suffer, especially when he was laughing at the disastrous show. Then he realised John was human too. From looking at John's flat, it seemed as if he didn't have a large sum of money, yet he emptied his pocket for a complete stranger. Paul had never comsidered doing that. He put his tea on the coffee table reached for his trousers (which werehung over the couch) and dug into the pocket.

He stared at the coins that John gave. He had no clue how long for but he began to see patterns that weren't really there. His vision blurred as tears started to well uo in his eyes. He felt terrible, ever since he met John he did nothing but judge him. What he didn't know John didn't have alot of money, he didn't speak like a posh person, nor did he have first class education yet he was a person. A good one for taking care of a selfish idiot like Paul, no wonder George took an instant shine to him.

He had a lot of work to do if he was to be forgiven.

\-------------------

John clicked his fingers impatiently in front of the sleeping man. "Oi. Oi! OI!" Paul's eyes slowly opened so his eyes would become accustomed to the lighting and the surroundings. The first thing he saw was John's face frowning. "Christ you sleep heavy," That was it. He was gonna be kicked out, he just knew it. "You want breakfast, I'm making full English." Paul was a little shocked, why was John being nice? Maybe he was luring him in before he would chop up Paul into bits. "Well d'ya want some or not?"

"Erm... yeah sure, but I haven't brushed my-"

"Spare toothbrush is the blue one." John was already in the kitchen frying bacon. Paul had no idea how he could afford that, post war it was very hard to come by meat that wasn't spam.

The two ate in silence, not having much to say to each other. All of their prior conversations had been insults, it was too risky to speak, they both didn't want to say the wrong thing. Paul was too shy too stare at John, but John didn't care, he looked wherever he pleased. This gave Paul a hint that John was probably outgoing. Paul decided to note, as he wanted to find out as much as possible about John, and he needed to find a way to make it up to him.

"Well... Paul 'm going out," John said getting up. He put his foot up on his chair and did his laces. Suddenly Paul began to feel lonely and afraid. "W-where you going?" John looked at Paul and saw the worry in his face. "'M gonna go kill the first person I see on the street."John took so much pleaure in seeing Paul's face transform into a look of horror. "Jesus lad I'm joking with yer. I'm gonna go and visit my aunt and uncle, and you're gonna stay here. You're not going into work. Yet."

"When will you be back?"

"Erm... in the evening. Then we need to have a serious discussion." And with that he left. Leaving that vague sentence lingering in the air, it was torturous for an ansty Paul. Like a horrible cliffhanger at the end of a chapter, Paul pretty much concluded he'd be chopped up and sold as meat.

\---------------------

"Mi! MI! Mimi?" John called in singsongy voice. "I AM bloody  CALLING YOU SO please ANSWER." He silenced the word that he knew be scorned for, and silenced the word he never wanted to be caught dead saying.

When he saw that she and her uncle weren't anywhere downstairs. He ran up the stairs, synonymous with the what he used to do in his youth. He heard angry mumbling coming from the corridor. "Mi? You alright?" John asked with worry thick in his Liverpudlian accent.

His aunt, who was knelt down making a mess of the storage room looked back at him with surprise. "Oh!" She got up with a bit of difficulty and fixed her dishevelled hair. "I er... didn't expect you to come today."

"Yeah, I know was gonna come yesterday, but I got caught up. It was Ritchie's birthday y'know." Mimi resumed searching through the cupboard, and threw a lot of things on the floor. A few of the things hitting John. "Uh huh, I spoke to his mother on the phone, she was telling me you lot went to an Italian place." She stepped away from the cupboard just in time, a whole lot of papers and boxes fell on the floor. Making a huge mess.

"Excellent." She said smiling.

John stood there, very confused. He waited for any hint of sarcasm to appear but she seemed to be sincere. John shook his head, he knew he'd drive her crazy one day but not this soon.  "John, you haven't see the photo album around have you?"

"No... why?"

She didn't reply, she only carried on looking. As soon as he said he didn't know where it was, she became uninterested. John decided to drop it. "So, where's Uncl-" She cut him off and replied curtly. "He's sleeping." She finally picked up gigantic red book, and looked through it satisfied. John concluded on abandoning his aunt, from the way she kept brushing him off he figured they weren't going to have a proper conversation until she found the bloody photo album. He walked into his aunt and uncle's shared bedroom before he could be stopped. He wasn't stupid he knew something was going on.

\--------------

Paul sat on John's couch watching the very small television screen in front of him. He wasn't even focused on what was being displayed, all he could think about were ways he could make it up to John. That was if he wasn't about to be brutally murdered. He didn't know how long he would be staying here, John did mention an important discussion, maybe that topic would be covered.

"Oh well done Thomas now you've ruined all the furniture." The woman from the TV cried in despair at her drunk husband. The black and white figures on the TV blurred once again as Paul thought deeply. Then he realised something, he got up and his eyes scanned through the phonebook. He found the right number and dialled it using the telephone that was next to him.

"Hello Mr. Daniels?" Paul waited for a reply from the other end of the phone. "Yes it's Paul... McCartney, I need to ask you a favour."

"Are you busy?" He gently bit his lip hoping he would the answer he wanted to hear. "Excellent, well I need you to come over, yes... and bring your men too..." Paul smiled with delight, easing up. "I need to you to come over to the Eleanor building... yep flat number nine.I can pay you today, in fact, I just need to go over to my house to get the money." His eyes focused on the chestnut grandfather clock ticking, in the corner of the livingroom. "Half an hour is fine, thank you very much, sir." He placed the reciever down, very much unlike John who preferred to slam it down impulsively.

Paul, was already fully dressed, overdressed in fact, in his suit (but without blazer and tie, with his top button undone) was ready to walk out of the flat. Now the surprise could commence

When Paul got to his house, after hailing a cab (using some of the money given to him by John) he suddenly had a lump in his throat. He felt as if the last time he'd been here was years ago, he knew it was because during his breakdown he quickly became attached to John's flat. Linda was gone. There was no doubt now, he thought when he'd returned to see her clothes were gone, the clothes he had bought her.

He forced himself to look away and grab all the cash from his money tins. It was quite a lot so he stuffed it into his large leather sidebag. He wanted to get everything of his, but he had no idea how long he would be permitted to stay at John's. Nor did he have enough time, he had just about seven minutes. So he hurried back to get another cab.

\---------------------

John sat on his aunt's couch, too stunned to speak. His aunt brought down the photo album and placed it on the coffee table. "'Ow long has 'e been like this?" He couldn't believe what had just happened. Many moments in his life had really traumatised him, but nothing had ever been fucked up as his uncle asking him 'Who are you?'

Mimi sighed. "Since last night." She looked at him trying to read his face, but it looked plain with shock and white like a sheet of paper. "I was looking for this," Both their eyes landed on the previously forgotten album. "I-I was trying to jog his memory again. I didn't tell- or call you because I assumed I could fix it an-"

His aunt didn't finish her sentence in case tears threatened to fall from her green eyes.  John didn't get angry, as he might of done in a situation like this. He felt tired, tired of seeing his aunt like this. She was usually quite like him, she would never wear her heart on her sleeve, in case some spotted any sign of weakness. And seeing her almost cry, shook John to his core.

He got up and put his hand on his aunt's shoulder. "Y'know Mimi, dementia can't be cured. One day... he won't be able to recognise anyone, the way he couldn't remember who I was. One day Mi, he'll forget you too." He sat beside his aunt and they hugged each other. This was something they had done once before, when John was abandoned by his parents. "But I won't go anywhere, I'll look after ye."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm crap at updating. But anyway its my birthday (I feel old) I hate celebrating my birthday but im in a good mood xD. Enough 'bout me I really hope you enjoy the story - if you want me to add anything feel free to comment :)


	12. Twelve

Paul didn't know what changed in him.  Not long ago, he had seen John as an irrelevant nobody but with a sudden turn of events he was at centre of his life. He was extremely thankful that John hadn't returned from whatever he was doing. Everything had to be complete, or he would think Paul was trying to destroy his flat.

  
The only thing that came to mind as he contemplated ways to repay John was money. The thing he'd been drowning in all his life, nonetheless as he scanned John's resisdence he realised the absence of it. It was probably a cherished luxury. That is the reason why Paul's gift to John was a minor house renovation.  Not much had been altered - only a paint job really. Paul had a nagging fear that he tarnished his relationship with John, or whatever it was; he didn't want push his luck.

While the painters did their job, the hazel eyed man also did a bit of cleaning in John's unkempt place. Everything was chaotic and wasn't in the right order. Most of all the kitchen, you wouldn't know whether or not there was cutlery, and nothing was even stacked. It was as if he threw things into the cupboard, shut it and ran away, in hope that the next time he opens it, all the things won't subside on him. Paul had quite a mission.

It was a good thing though. He was in a vulnerable state, now wasn't the time for him to break down. Predominantly as he had his sick father's empire weighing down on his shoulders, if that fell through then who knows what'd do to his father's health. And what would Paul do, he was trained and taught to run this business. Mike was so lucky...

\---

By the time John stormed in, his hair all over the place and his eyes having a hint of red to it, Paul's eyelids were already closing.   John woke him as he stumbled into the living room like he was intoxicated. The only light he had to guide his way was the television light which radiated off of Paul's face, making it glow. From the image in his head that lasted a milisecond, he noticed how peaceful he looked. He felt a bit terrible for disrupting his sleep, he'd been a little stressed and probably needed it.

Thinking of it himself John would like nothing more than to curl up in his bed. Unfortunately he couldn't, Mimi always drummed it into his head that you think of  the guest before yourself. So he was stuck with sleeping on the floor. "Oh," Paul mumbled dreamily. "John... your back."

"Hmm." He slid off his coat and shoes, eager to be in something comfortable. "'M off to bed." Before he could stalk off into his room to change, Paul stood up and stopped him.   
"Oh but aren't you gonna eat?"

"Already ate." John lied. He simply wanted to shut his eyes, and be in a place where reality couldn't suffocate him. He wasn't looking to make a new friend either, he was just going to help the guy out and then get on with life. He also wanted information on Jim - who seemed to have dissappeared.

"Oh, alright." Paul muttered a little downhearted. He didn't feel tired, he was only falling asleep because he had a tedious day and it wouldn't hurt to catch up on some sleep. On the contrary, now the other resident had arrived, Paul recalled their earlier conversation, they were meant to have a discussion. 

He now yearned to know what it was about, and why John, unexpectedly, didn't want to have that conversation. And a why was John acting indifferent towards him, it shouldn't be a surprise as the air the both of them breathed whenever they were near each other was quite icy; this morning it almost seemed as if it were warming up.

"Bloody hell! You still 'ere?" John croaked appearing out of the shadows as he stood in the doorway.  Paul partially left his trance and slowly turned his head to see the other man in what seemed to be his zombie like form. "You must of been here all night." John voice sounded less rough and more nasal, he coughed his way into the kitchen and made an awful noise shuffling through the drawers.

"Have I?" Paul said finally acknowledging what the older one had said to him. John gestured for the other one to come into the kitchen. Paul could quite clearly see from his sitting position on the couch since both rooms were connected without there being the need for doors or walls. The twenty-three year old swallowed a pill, to aid in the evident deterioration in his flu. 

Paul stood before him, obediently, as if he were a faithful dog. "We need to discuss the thingy, I was on about this morning."

"You never said - the only thingy that was specific about our conversation was when you said you were going to kill random people." John chuckled as he wrapped his arms around his torso to provide himself with extra warmth. "They teach yer fucking anything in posh school, but just not how to have a sense of humour." Paul laughed too, as much as he hated to admit it that statement was very much true. They even had lessons in botanical gardening or something  - that was more George's thing than his.

They stared at each other for a while, it might have been because they had nothing more to say to each other or because there was so much to be said. There locked eyes pulled apart when there were rushed knocks on the door. John's posture relaxed as he went to inspect who it was through the peephole.

George stormed in making himself comfortable, although he had never been in here before. He dropped onto the couch casually as if it wasn't 3am. Paul quickly noted from the way he invited himself in, he and John were already quite close. This is something Paul himself would never had done, appropiate manners were always thrust upon him since childhood. But in boarding school, George always had that slight rebellious streak in him that wasn't quite uncovered.

John slammed the door, as always, before the scrawny boy sprawled across the couch could even begin. "I was gonna say Ritchie was out there too." The oldest one turned back around and smiled sheepishly at the short man who stood angrily with his arms folded. "You could've caused damage to me nose." He moaned also inviting himself in, unlike George, Richard had been here many times. Usually on most Fridays he would visit, and they'd bitch about their week and talk about their dreams, and other meaningful ramblings.

"Well it wouldn't hurt to fix it back in place." John remarked, causing Paul's eyes to widen. He thought they were about to start fighting, it didn't seem like another one of his jokes he looked deadly serious. But Paul's face soon eased when the three of them began to howl with laughter.

"Anyway," George began facing John. "how's it going?" The three of them began chatting away, as they became reacquainted. Paul didn't understand why they needed to talk so much they saw each other only the other day. Recently, really had been an unhinged turn of events. Wasn't it only last week Paul and George were best friends? Wasn't it only then, that neither of them had even heard of  John or Ritchie? A cloud of despair suddenly appeared over Paul. He had all these connections and people he knew from school, yet he felt terribly lonely.  When he was certain the trio weren't paying attention he slipped on John's discarded shoes and his coat - both of which were a size to big. And he snuck outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep getting ideas for this story! I'm running out of places to write it down, and running out of brain capacity. Sorry for the longish gap I hope you enjoyed. I will try and update again later this week ;)


	13. Thirteen

"-I promise yer, it actually happened I think it was last we- wait. Where's Paul?" The boys were deeply engrossed in confessions of their most embarrassing moments, when George paused, realising that Paul was missing. It only took someone thirty minutes to notice. "'E was standing by the kitchen weren't 'e?" John said scratching his hair not even bothering to look at where he claimed Paul was.

"Well if you actually looked you would see he ain't." George replied a little coldly, the atmosphere quickly changed; George became worried about Paul. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but he had noticed that he looked a little tired. Not the few hours of sleep tired, but stressed and depressed tired. He also felt angry at John. "Why did you take Paul in if you don't even care?"

"Who said that I don't care, if I didn't I damn well wouldn't even have looked at 'im twice when I saw him in the alleyway." John bursted out, officially turning a disagreement into a full blown argument. "Well you don't care enough to find out what was wrong with him, do yer?" George's usually assertive self fell out of place. "Otherwise he would have walked off would he?"

"Well you, mister friend of the millennium, didn't care enough either. If you had noticed, using your special friendship power, why isn't he at your place?"

Before the verbal fight could become anymore explosive, Ringo innocently intervened. "'E ain't in the bedroom." The two boys hadn't noticed Ringo had slipped out to search for the man in question. "Or the bathroom." George sighed and got up off the couch to leave the flat. "I'm gonna look for him." Was all he simply said before dissapearing out of the building. John knew what the man was thinking, Richard didn't need to even look at him to get a reaction. "I didn't say anything - he started getting pissed at me, he got so defensive about Paul it was as if he was 'is mother."

Richard thought for a bit trying to see it through another perspective."Well, I don't know too much 'bout Geo, but Paul seems too." Ringo began. "They must be good pals - George mentioned something about his mum dying when they were kids or something. So he must be really concerned - he probably didn't mean it."

John groaned dramatically when he was calmer and saw his fault. "Why do you always have to be the good guy?" He whined slipping into a random pair of shoes. Ringo, already fully dressed, chuckled and joined John (who was putting on his coat over his pyjamas) at the door. "At least I get the role as the handsome devil." Ringo shoved him playfully and shut the door behind him.

\--------------------------

His mind censored the worst of his father's condition. Looking at him now was worse than the picture he had in his head and paralysed any happiness he had left in him. Jim was lying down on his back, dark circles surrounded his misty green eyes, his face was sickly pale and damp with sweat. His usually loud, big personality and presence was a contrast to how small he looked as he lay by the overpowering cushions and quilts. "Hey da'"

"Son? I haven't seen you since the day before you first started." He croaked, Paul stood where he was nervously. He was acting as if his own father was a stranger. And it felt like that. It felt as if he was the man who he was staring at was a completely different person to the man who had raised him and had created countless happy memories for him and his family. "Yes, sorry about that. Been busy."

"Good. I've always thought it'd be best to throw you into the deep end, instead of you know, spending your years in school." His father said a little more chirpier, with a little glint in his eyes.

\--------------------

John panted behind Ringo who was energetically jogging up and down the  streets attempting to make out the figures and hoping one of them was 20 year old George. "Jesus lad, y-you have such little legs... h-how are you running lik-like tha'?" Ringo finally slowed down and turned around to see John sitting on the floor - giving up after ten minutes of searching.

He walked back and lightly kicked John, a signal that was urging him to get up. "We ain't gonna find him at this rate," Ringo began panting himself, his breath finally caught up with him, having not previously realised how fast he was going. "we've got to  split up and find him."

"What about Paul?" John, now standing and stretching his legs asked. "Shit." Ringo scratched his head. "Well you find George, I'll look for Paul." He was already moving his small legs along to begin the search until he was dragged back by John's rough hands "No no, let's switch. I'll look for Paul you look for Geo." He insisted, Ringo shrugged and they walked their seperate ways.

\--------------------------

The more George considered what had been happening the more he began to feel disdain for John. Sure they were _new_ friends yet they had become quite close very quickly, maybe even too quickly. What was he up too? Who was John exactly? Yes, he was a cleaner but was that it? He could have an ulterior or sinister motive - one minute he felt complete and utter sympathy for Paul, the next he didn't care what happened to him.

Maybe George was just overreacting as he had been deprived of his much needed sleep, but he was really concerned about Paul. There were many components that made Paul, other than the common organs and nervous system. One of these parts was  burning embers that moved furiously - he could be vicious and dangerous (if you say or do the wrong thing) there wasn't an exact way to approach him. He could be very sensitive And at the same time a percentage of him was plastic, not something in its entirety, made up of many substances, yet stable and smooth.

The downside to this was if uncontrolled the flames could melt the plastic and would continue to intensify; affecting those who were in his frame. Just like what was happening now, here twenty year old George was, on the streets on a weekend worrying about his friends. At his age there were so many things that he didn't have to be concerned about - Paul wasn't one of them.

\-----------------------

"Dad, it was so great hearing your voice again, but I'm so exhausted I have to go now." Paul said very gently. His father had been talking his ear off all night, clearly very joyous about seeing his eldest son. He looked happier, if not happier than maybe he was getting better. He must have felt so isolated, laying in bed all day being surrounded by noone but the housekeeper and the nurse. These factors made saying bye to his father even more dreadful. He was very sick, who knows when they might see each other again.

"That's alright boy," Jim said in a tone more chirpier than Paul had prepared for. "I needed to sleep, anywho..." His son nodded awkwardly and waved goodbye to Jim who eyelids were beconing heavier and heavier. Paul quickly left his his childhood home - he didn't really like being there, he hated it. As he sauntered through the streets, he pondered on his childhood.

There wasn't really one, he didn't really have a home, he was so busy studying in America he was barely there. The only memories he had of them were traumatic. He left for the US just after his mum died, whatever happened before her death happened too early in Paul's youth for him to remember in detail. All he remembers was a sick mother and a huge pile of studying. Nowhere among the pile was a healthy childhood.

Here he was now. As he wandered deep in his thoughts his feet led him to the train station, a dangerous place. He could say he subconsciously came here, but he knew he came here for a reason - it was a dangerous place. Many people died here. A thick cloud of black smoke could be seen not too far away followed by the sound of the train charging it's way, stopping for no one. And here was Paul his leather shod feet stepping closer to the edge of the platform where a few feet below the tracks-

"What the fuck do you think yer doing!" His ears reacted as fast as light but his eyes reacted much later. Before he even looked at the man he recognised the voice, George's thick Liverpudlian accent only revealed itself when he was angry. His angriness quickly moulded itself into fear and panic when he noticed, even in the poorly lit station at night, the tears welling up in Paul's doe eyes. "Mate," He began much more softly. "what were you thinking come over here." Paul gratefully walked into the warm, sympathetic arms of his dearest and truest friend. "Let's take you home," George led the older one out of the train station, as if he was a confused toddler. "to my place, yeah?"


	14. Fourteen

In the last few years, Paul and George hadn't seen each other. They were barely in each others company, however they managed to be each others' greatest friends, through letters and phone calls. So it has been a while since Paul had entered the Harrison household, and it evoked memories from when things seemed so much easier, things were easy mainly in Paul's earlier childhood, so it had been a while. George led Paul up to the porch where he opened the door, revealing the narrow hallway. George's family, weren't very rich, or necessarily poor - they were well off and managed to work hard and do well for themselves, that is why Paul and his family admired the Harrisons so much.

The living room was very large, to fit in quite a big and boisterous family, it wasn't pristine like Paul's own residence. It was cluttered and from looking and all the books laid sprawled about, and the toys left on the floor and the vinyls all out of place, you could figure out what they had been up to during the day. Over the years of Paul's absence the couch had changed but the homeliness evidently had not. Although he had not been within these doors for a little under a decade, as he sank into the sofa he never felt more at peace.

"What's been going on Paul?" George got to the point, he didn't want to drag on or encourage any long conversations. The only way to know what was going on was to get to the point. "Everything has been messing up me head and moving fast it's crazy." Paul, who was formerly felt relaxed suddenly felt every muscle within his frail and stressed out body tense. "C'mon mate," George pushed on after not receiving a response from Paul after a few moments. "I know something is up with you."

"I'm tired George. I just want some rest please." Paul pleaded in desperation, he didn't look George in the eye. In hindsight, everything that had happened over the past few days was terribly embarrassing for Paul. His head was a mess and he needed a minute to slow down after all of the chaotic shit that had been going on.

\----------------

"Fuck it, we ain't ever gonna find 'im." John exhaustion layering in his voice. Ever since Jim left John's usual way of life had been rudely interrupted and only crazy things were occuring. Barely even a week ago things were as they were usually meant to be but everything was making John's head spin quicker than the rate of a tornando. He really couldn't take it anymore. "John!" Ringo called to the man who was barely conscious as he stood relying completely on the lampost that lit the empty road. John only groaned in response, he couldn't think straight and on top of that his eyes were failing him more so than usual.

"You alright?" Ringo almost instantaneously expected a sarcastic response the second the words escaped his mouth. He helped the man move towards a bench that was several feet away. "I feel like hell." John collapsed onto the oak bench and cursed lolling his head backwards he felt his muscles weaken. He sniffed solemnly, and like always felt pity for himself. "Aye, yer sick then?" Ringo placed his small palm on John's sweaty forehead. The other mumbled back at Ringo. "I suppose you should take me back to my flat then."

\----------------

This was the perfect time to be sick, when you have got a hell of a lot problems coming your way. After their fruitless wandering and searching, and John's mini episode Ringo left John to sleep in his room. John felt comforted by his best friend's loud snores projecting from the livingroom. The man with his auburn hair sprawled across his pillow, longed for his shoebox room, he felt comfortable and was enjoying it. However, his mind was not at rest, his minor flu caught up to him and he felt so heavy. There was so much he had to do though. He supposed that since it was still dark it was best to sleep for a while and get back down to what needed to be done. So as his eyes fluttered and closed he could be guaranteed a few hours of peace.

\-------------

"'Ey what you doin' here?" He could hear a rather agitated George exclaim from downstairs. "... it don't matter who let ye in here," Paul heard more unintelligible protests from the same people. Rather than investigate he lay down a prisoner to his heavy lidded eyes. Downstairs a now infuriated George was arguing with both his mother and John. The latter remained calm, understandably the younger man was angry as John had shown up uninvited, and because it was eleven in the morning and beacuse of their late night escapades everyone was tired.

"I let him in here," His mother, Louise, filled in. "He says it urgent." Contrasting with his mothers calm responses, the youngest of four children replied curtly. "You believed his bullshit."

"GEORGE! Don't you use that language near your mother." His father bellowed, his booming voice waking up a sleepy Paul from upstairs. "As for you young man, state your business." Harold asked quite seriously, which was unlike his laid back nature.

"I'm uhm... here to see Paul McCartney." He stated nervously almost unsure of himself, like a shy schoolboy. George's father pointed the way upstairs before wandering off into the living room to get back to his newspaper. Louise in the mean time stood in her place, quite clearly befuddled by anger in her son that escalated quite quickly. George, speechless and confused at his own behaviour sighed and went out through the front door.

Although he was given quite vague instructions to where he could find Paul, there wasn't much difficulty in it as the distinct looking man stood in the hallway, as if he was eavesdropping on the argument downstairs. "Mornin'." Paul mumbled shyly to John. He felt very uncomfortable around him all of a sudden. To be fair, this is the way it should have been as they've only known each other since Friday and it was now Monday morning, but earlier on even if they were mainly argumentative around each other they established a bizarre sort of connection.

"Hey," John replied also receiving the unnerving tension. "I-uhm, Ritchie and I, y'know the short one, were looking for you."

"How did you know I was here?"

"When we didn't hear from ye or Geo I pretty much figured..." John responded. "And it took me ages to find his address, it's like he lives in the middle of fucking nowhere." Paul giggled nervously, he didn't want John to get into trouble for his language especially after what happened to George just now.

"Why were you looking for me so desperately."

"'Cause I've been trying to talk to you since I came back from me aunt's on Sunday - and it's urgent."

"If it's so important I suggest you come on in." Paul said more confidently and lead the way into George's absent older brother's room, where he slept. John trudged in, he was incredibly exhausted and with every step he took he felt an incredible force dragging him back. A few hours sleep was clearly not enough. The room looked so incredibly comfortable in John's almond shaped eyes. There was a huge double bed, and the mattress looked so springy. It was spacious and tidy, a massively opposing to John's little shoebox room.

John not caring about manners chose to sit on edge of the bed and the other man sat beside him, and they got straight into business. "I can't put it anymore lightly than to say something weird is going on at Penns."

"I know you've only been there the weekend but before that when noone was running the place for about a week, it was strange."

"How do you mean?" His hazel eyes widened from its former drowsy state, in interest and fear. "I've been working their since I was like thirteen and after Jim left like two weeks ago its been odd." As John spoke he pondered where in fact Paul's dad was and what happened to him. "Not his absence but the people and workers - what happened to ol' Jim anyroad?"

Paul was unprepared for the sudden change in topic, his dad's sickness was a sensitive thing right now, and he didn't feel the overwhelming urge to share it. "Nothing."

"Oh so what, he suddenly decided to not go to work, leave his business in the hands of his inexperienced twenty-something year old son." John said a little bluntly, impulsively not picking his words carefully. This obviously had made an effect on Paul whose eyes became flooded by suppressed tears welling up in his doe eyes. "Are y-"

"I ain't fucking crying." Paul cut off, he knew it was unprofessional of him to show so candidly his feelings, especially near his 'employee'. Before he could even apologise, he slid off the bed and sat onto the floor and burst out crying in his hands. John stared for a while quite baffled by Paul's outburst - he had never met someone to be so sensitive. He couldn't help but think what was wrong with him. "Jesus lad! What's going on with ye," John pounced of the bed to comfort Paul properly by wrapping his arm around the bawling man. "hey listen, sit up and breathe for a minute - you'll kill yourself at this rate."

"It doesn't matter!" Paul babbled. "Mum's dead, father won't admit, but he's dying too." This sentence alone shocked John, he'd known Paul's dad for a long time, but Jim rarely discussed family affairs, and he had definitely missed out the part about him and his wife dying. Ringo mentioned Paul's mum dying - he didn't seem too sure though. It didn't come as a surprise that Paul was losing his mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting a little lazy with these updates - but there's a 100 percent chance I'll update by tomorrow or the day after. I really hope you enjoy this, cause it took me a fuckload of time- I'm joking just enjoy :))))))


	15. Fifteen

John barely managed to cope as it was, he was astounded and respected Paul for jumping into such an important role despite what was going on behind closed doors. Everyone who was in John's  life was healthy except for... "Me uncle's dying too." John said regretting as every word slipped out of his thin red lips. "And?" Paul called his upset quickly morphing into anger. "My dad's dying and your comparing him to your uncle!" Usually at this point, having felt insulted John would have replied with his fists, regardless of whether or not the man next to him was bawling his eyes out. But he was physically and mentally strained and couldn't bring himself to even if he tried.

Paul babbled on and cried for a few minutes until John couldn't bear it. "Now ye really pissin' me off," John snatched the rolled up newspaper that was stuffed into his pyjama pocket. He dashed it aggresively on the other mans lap. He decided to tell everyting to him straight otherwise there'd be more episodes like this in the future. "'ere read this." Paul took his head out of his hands and peered down at what was dashed before him.

"You see, lad, that newspaper headline's talking 'bout Penns' shit reviews, from that last show." Paul's eyes watered and bottom lip trembled again as his eyes skimmed over the text before him - he was too embarrassed to read in detail. "You see, yer a fuckin' business man you can't keep sulking. You need fight back." Paul looked at him with his huge eyes, he looked so inexperienced, it made John empathise with him. "Now c'mon dry those abnormally big eyes." John chuckled wiping Paul's eyes with his sleeve. "I'm tired." Paul dragged dreamily, desperately wishing these problems will fly away. "Yeah well fuck yer feelings. _We_ got a business to run mate." John deadpanned, crossing his arms.

\-----------------

Pattie was chewing a pencil, on the edge of dozing off as nothing remotely intrigued her until George stormed in with his face like thunder. He made his way behind the reception plopped himself on the swivel chair next to her. "Not even a good morning - your acting like John, as a girl, on his peri-"

"Don't finish that." He interupted before weird thoughts could flood his mind for eternity. "Fine," Pattie scooted her chair closer to George. "What's you bothering you then?"

"A lot."

"Like?"

"..."

"Oh George," Pattie whined. "you'll never cheer up if you keep thinking so negatively - you need more sunshine in your life."

"Speaking of sunshine..." George beamed, glad to see his friend Ringo, bouncing with every footstep, he hadn't noticed George and was heading straight to the lift. "Hey Ringo, wanna go for lunch?" The smallish man spent a few moments looking around the large and busy reception area until his eyes landed on a scruffily presented George and beside him Pattie. Ringo cheerily approached the desk, and leaned on it with his elbows. "What d'you mean lunch? Its only gone eleven." His round sapphire eyes looked above the other two's heads at the clock on the wall.

"Yeah well 'im hungry." George moaned causing Pattie to laugh hysterically, since he was saying this while biting into a sandwich he stole from the desk of Pattie's co-worker. "Oh well alright, I'm late anyways. Pats, can you skip?" She nodded, no one was coming to the front desk anyways so she grabbed her purse and the other boys soon followed after her. George and Pattie babbled on together as they opened the main glass doors but it was barely audible for Richard, who was sinking into some of his thoughts.  It might've been the recent turn of events that made him increasingly worried about John, but everything appeared grey and tired. Everything around him. The deamenour and the overall atmosphere.

Ever since the second world war ended everyone had lost hope for everything and although he was usually a bright character, his attempts at brightening the mood seemed hollow. He sometimes considered if it was worth it, he thought  John was sometimes overly pessimistic but was he just being realistic? Anyways, Ringo didn't want to overwhelm himself so he quickly came to the conclusion that even if everyone else was mindlessly forcing themselves through life or unhappily getting by doesn't mean he has to live that way. "Little Richard always off in dream land," Pattie teased wrapping her arms around his shoulder, which she achieved easily enough because of the the small height difference. "you need to walk quick, I can't skip off for long - y'know what Cynthia's like." The last part she spoke indistinctly, to herself as she walked into the café.

Before they even spent fifteen minutes in the café George had already ate most of his large order of english breakfast, pancakes (without much sugar due to rationing) and extra toast. While Ringo and Pattie were still working through their eggs, leaving him to sip on his lukewarm tea. His rapid eating led the other two to give him looks of concern. "What?" Pattie just shrugged at her new "friend" and then decided to try and have a conversation with Ringo. "Oh by the way Pattie, you'll have to head back to work on your own, me and Geo are going somewhere." Pattie looked down in despair but tried not to show it, so she didn't make the other two feel bad.

"Oh that's fine," Her disappointed tone didn't fail to go unnoticed by George's keen ears. "I need some time alone anyway." She said as a cover although it wasn't entirely untrue. "Are you sure yer don't wanna come with, Pattie?" George asked feeling sad to leave her alone. "It's fine I don't want to intrude." She continued to eat her food, oblivious to the stern look that Ringo was giving George, who only held his hands up in mock surrender and carried on sipping his tea annoyingly and loudly. "What are you boys doing anyways?"

"Oh not much really," George saw the panic in Richard's blue eyes - warning him to not say anything more. "we're only 'aving a secret meeting at John's." Pattie was silent for a moment then starting giggling like crazy, not taking them seriously to the relief of Ringo. As his two ftiends made conversation, Ringo couldn't help but ponder on what John was talking about on the phone. The seriousness in his tone and the rushed and hushed way he spoke gave the short lad goosebumps.

\---------------

Paul's eyes opened to see John whistling a recognisable tune, he believed it was called _Rock Around the Clock_ and it drove most mad at how catchy it was, the fever had clearly found its way to John. Paul fell asleep after sobbing quietly, John whether or not he felt sorry for him, was very strict towards him, and it being obvious it was going to continue that he bettter straighten up and end his sensitivity. He clearly struggled to show much emotion  and was quite reserved about himself, he must have had a lot going on in his head. Paul wondered if John wrote a diary, he probably wouldn't unless he was a fairy, yet he always seemed to be writing - as he appeared to be doing right now through Paul's tired eyes. 

"John?" The man in question acknowledged him with a mumur. "When you said I need to fight back - what did you mean?" He questioned, as he recollected more memories of what happened earlier.  
"Well Paulie, I can tell you today - but we 'ave to head back to me flat - the other two will come along later." Paul stretched and reluctantly got out of bed, he arms subtly shaking as his mind awaited what he was about to hear next.


	16. Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of the story I made people who were great people into villains. Also, I had to change Stuart's middle name.

"Why d'you tell her about what John said?" Ringo asked almost furiously as they hurried to John's flat. George rolled his eyes, he wished that a bus would come as soon as they passed a bus stop. The evil cycle of this not going his way, caused him to perspire more in the summery heat. The buses didn't seem to be working today. "I never told her what John said," He argued. "I only said tha' we were having a secret meeting at John's. Plus she's 'armless anyways."

Ringo noticed that George was wearing a women's purse for some reason until he realised he was wearing Pattie's "Oh for God's sake Geo!" Ringo whined. "Why  do you have Pattie's purse - you nicking her money?" George laughed as they powerwalked in the other direction back to Penns to return the bag back to its owner. "No you idiot, I wrote me house number on paper and slipped it in her bag." He wiggled his eyebrows very seductively.

"Good luck with a girl as pretty as that."

"I won't need it, y'know a since I'm a boy as pretty as me." He argued back with his comedic arrogance

\------------

As soon as Pattie walked into the reception, which was cooled by the electric fan spinning on the ceiling, she had to walk outside into the heat. She had seen Cynthia and rushed out hoping she won't be spotted. "Pattie!" Cynthia called.

"Oh, hello Cyn."

"Where were you?" She asked and her eyes pierced deeply into her blue ones and Pattie knew trouble was coming. "Oh actually, nevermind that, its lovely weather lets take a walk." Pattie still tensed up, relaxed only very slightly, hopefully today was one of those days where Cynthia was normal. As had been maybe only a few months ago, back then they were great friends and could talk about anything, but she had changed - for the worst.

They walked normally only a few feet until they came across the alleyway next to Penns.  Cynthia tightened her grip and dragged Pattie in, causing the younger one to yelp. "What the hell were you doing Pattie?" She spat at her raising the alarm bells in Pattie. "I can see it in your eyes." Pattie didn't answer her, she couldn't betray her friends, not because of a stupid plan. A horrible one too.

She had known Ritchie for as long as she'd been going to Penns. And she had developed a kind of crush on George and she didn't want to ruin the potential romance between them. But it was no use as Cynthia put it, she was smarter and stronger, Pattie was nothing. The nineteen year olds father also had told her that from before she could count past thirty.

Cynthia grabbed her arms and twisted it, kept it in that position and waited expectantly for an answer to her question. Other bruises on Patties arm had yet to heal making this ordeal a lot worse. She clamped her eyes shut in an effort not to cry. There wasn't any point this secret meeting they were having at John's flat was possibly just a silly thing they were doing - but then again she knew that wasn't true.

When George revealed that they were having a meeting, she saw the look of alarm and warning on Ringo's face. She thought of Ringo, George and poor little Paul. Now John would end up getting sucked into it - John was practically her older brother. What was she going to do? Cynthia knew deep down that this physical pain was only temporary and she could probably take it. "That money we're gonna make that third could be all yours - otherwise it'll be ypur fathers too." Cynthia egged on trying to hit a spot that she knew would affect the younger girl.

"If he finds out I'm sure he'll take everything. Spend it on booze a-" The thought of all of this money slipping out of her reach frightened  Pattie and it caused her to crack and as she revealed what she knew to Cynthia she couldn't help but cry. "Paul, I-I think he knows. There's George, Richard a-and-"

"Richard Starkey and the lanky one who's always around you." Pattie nodded in response, the last name she was reluctant to reveal she really didn't want to - she couldn't. In what felt like a long time but was probably half a second her brain reasoned possible solutions and outcomes. If she revealed John's name, disaster was most likely to occur. If she kept his likely involvement to herself, the boys had a chance of getting back at Pattie's accomplices. The young girl yearned for the money, but a huge part of her wanted their scheme to fail.

"Thats it." She lied.

"That's it?"

"Yes." Cynthia let go off Pattie's wrists and rushed to work as if this never happened. Pattie knew exactly where Cynthia was heading, into the clutches of her new lover: Stuart John Sutcliffe, to report this new update to him, to the man who started this scheme in the first place. Pattie had no clue as to what happened to him. The art loving boy and the others, were a few years older than her, but all of them (John, Cyn, Stu and Pattie) were childhood friends. Why had this happened? What had gone wrong? Cyn and Stu were like his older siblings, but something had happened.

\----------------------

"Hello Pats, Geo had yer purse!" He greeted loudly as they stepped into the reception area, where alot of people walked in and out. Loud noises were never taken noticed of in a bustling area like this. Despite this his greeting called the attention of Cynthia who was watching Pattie from a distance. Who's high heels clicked across the room as she went to investigate the scene.

"Richard! Shouldn't you be at work, your shift started a few hours ago - I noticed you didn't clock in." Ringo was a little perplexed, since when was Cynthia so formal, he looked at Pattie for some sort of an explanation but her head was hanging down, and her fringe covered her eyes.

He shrugged and gave George an apologetic shrug and disappeared. George gave the bag to a ghostly looking Pattie who accepted it hurriedly and put her head back down. Cynthia's weird stare was freaking him out so he left, and she went back to work when she was satisfied he had left.

\--------------------------

"What's the time Johnny?" Paul asked. "I'm bored of waiting could you just tell me? Why do the other two have to be here?"  John who was comfortably laying in his bed reading his book, sighed as this was the third time Paul had interrupted him. "Listen, business is tough shit, to put it lightly - your gonna need some balls, not fucking fairy dust." Paul sat on the floor like a young student and tried to absorb John's advice.

He was never actually properly trained for this, he was meant to learn the trade after he had finished his last year of university - but it was either him or his teenage brother Mike. "So what you need to do first of all is recognise your brothers. That basically means you've got to know who is on your side and who is against you." John said simply as he continued to read his book.

"That's simple, the whole team at Penns, then my enemies are the competitiors down at Blackpool Tower." Paul reasoned. In the eyes of John he seemed very ignorant, at this point, in the basics of business and John was willing to give up on him. "No yer fucking git, things aren't simple like Cinderella. There's more than the good and the bad-" He learnt this from his own self, he used this as an excuse for his mother. He always told this to himself when he was younger to think of a reason for his mothers disappearence - why she ran away from him.

"But you sai-"

"No, there's always more than good and bad there's always a reason for shit." His heart felt a very sharp pain at this moment, it was so vivid in his mind it could have been real, he hadn't thought of his mother in a while so it was a shock. He quickly continued with his train of thought - he had to think of Paul, who needed his help. "You could have enemies at Penns, ye just have to know who they are."

"Are you suggesting that they're people out to get me?" John's theory made more and more sense in his mind. He really underestimated this man, just because he was a cleaner didn't mean he didn't have brains - and quite a lot he did have. It would have been intersting to see George's input to this - Geo was another deep thinker. "I'm not one hundred percent certain, but yeah I think there is." John said his eyes no longer on his book but at the wall.

"Why?"

"Money, power, status - the fundamentals to make the world spin around." He now looked right into Paul's eyes, eye contact was a way of getting his message across. "Got that and you're pretty much sorted."

"But-"

"And that's exactly what you got now son."

"How do I know you're not one of them?" Paul asked almost humourously, not realising the irony of his joke. "Well, I don't think I am, but ye never know I might get bored one day and decide to ruin  you." They both didn't know this at the time, but John was one of them, so was Ringo. Both men were not born into the sides of George and Paul, they were born into the side of the working class people, as well as Pattie, Cyn and Stuart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anothet double chapter as a Christmas present. Merry Crimble to all and if you don't celebrate it then have a wonderful time anyways <3 <3 <3


	17. Seventeen

As soon as Cynthia's heels clacked away from the reception, George who was standing outside by the front entrance snuck back in, knowing the suspicious girl wouldn't go unless he went. He ran past Pattie's desk into the lift, his swift movement causing her light blonde hair to fly up a bit, she looked up but every second that she did so she could feel nothing but guilt. She dropped her head back down and pretended to write stuff on paper. 

George was almost certain that Ritchie worked backstage with lighting, directing or something like that. He just had to find his way there. "'Scuse me lad I'm looking for me mate, Ritchie-"

"You know Paul McCartney right." George, not knowing that he had bumped into Stuart, shrugged just wanting to know where Ringo was. "Well, do you know Paul McCartney?" The man asked again, thinking that intimidation might get him somewhere.  "No, I know who his dad is but I  don't know 'im." He lied through his sharp teeth. "And do you know where he is?" Stu queried letting his eargerness get the better of him. George shrugged again, trying to keep his stoic expression, instead of alarm.

Paul was recovering or whatever and it was best nobody knew where he was, especially after the vulnerability he showed at the train station the other night. "Can't believe they let 'im become boss." Stuart tutted disapprovingly. "That bastard. He'll get what he deserves, but this job of his isn't it." It was meant to be a whisper only something that was meant to be heard for his ears only. But the skinnier boy's large ears picked it up. This perturbed him so he was more than glad when Cynthia called the weird man, before she could spot Geo he disappeared once again in another attempt to find Ringo. Now more urgently than before.

\----------------

John looked at Paul's watch, it was turning to mid afternoon and the two boys were no shows. And there was no way John could come into touch with them unless he was sure of their whereabouts. "We can stop talking about business 'til they come back now - its doing my head in." John didn't argue, although Jim's music hall was important he really didn't want to go on about it. "Look at you Paulie, bringing out the Scouse in you." John heartily laughed.

"I know slang y'know I just don't use it very often," He explained, almost bragging, sitting  on John's bed. In a short time he began to feel relaxed with the man, it was like he was talking to George, but it was weirder. "me da' was just so happy about all the money we were making he was adament about sending me to the best schools. Which forced me to change, become fancy." John listened carefully with interest. "And is that who you are?"  
Paul thought through it, but didn't answer. "The school got it into me da's head that it would be better for business if we had those posh, _BBC_ accents."

"So you ain't a posh boy?"

"Those lessons at school stuck." Although it was ambiguous, it was as close to an answer that John would get. Paul's eyes became cloudy again when he remembered everything he had hidden far away, for such a long time he had forgotten most of it until now. "George was less influenced by it and stuck to his roots, but I didn't." They sat together in silence once more, Paul was itching to ask a question that he needed an answer to.

"Why did you take me in?"

John knew the answer, but just shook his head to express his uncertainty, Paul registered this action this as resentment at him, but was wrong "I'm really sorry for the way that I treated you. I can't justify it, but I was angry, jealous that you are so happy. Not rich, no private education, you're just a cleaner but you seem so happy. I was jealous." Paul's sincerity and desperation made John's breath get caught more than it did when he saw the younger man cowering morosely in the alleyway.

\----------------

As Pattie anticipated Cynthia looked through most part of the buildings to find Stuart. In her head, meeting Stuart was the most confusing thing she'd ever done. The short blonde haired girl had been John's girlfriend since they were about eighteen, and she had forever been loyal to him and had intended to, but his pal Stuart had very recently manifested his feelings for her. She didn't necessarily feel much for him, but he had been so nice, so gentle, had showered her with love in ways John hadn't in a long time. All she wanted was a little attention, the attention she was receiving from Stuart was more than flattering.

"Stu!" She called seeing him walking towards her from a distance. "I've got some news it's really important." Stuart lit up a little bit, there wasn't much of a development in their plans, so it was good to have some news. He led her into an empty office and locked the door quickly so they could quickly exchange info. "He knows!" She exclaimed, and panicked. "Who?" Stuart sat at the desk remaining calm as opposed to an agitated Cynthia.  "Paul!" She shouted once again. "According to Pattie, he might know."

"There's nothing we can do if he knows, just let them be, we can carry on." Stu said almost casually, if he worried he'd slip up and mess it up, so he remained calm. "Yes I understand that, but they could stop us." She argued becoming flustered.  
He scoffed confidently and held up today's newspaper in her face. "Its too late, the plan's already working." Cynthia smiled with relief, and pulled Stu in for an amorous kiss. "But Cyn," He broke apart from her. "keep an eye on Pattie will you?"

\-------------

Ritchie was likely to be backstage coordinating something, so that is where George decided to head to first. Bastard - the man had called Paul - it took a lot of George's strength to not fire back in defence of his long term friend. But he had to keep his emotion on a leash, so he wouldn't out himself.

It didn't take very long for George to find Ringo's location, from the directions giving to him by a friendly worker. And as predicted he was there leaning on a prop behind the stage. He was looking intently at a clipboard, and seemed quite panicked as if someone told him some news. Bad news. "Ritch!" George whisper shouted.

"Oh George, thank God you're here," Not seeing the need to keep his voice down, he placed the clipboard on top of the prop, and then jogged over to his pal. "This ain't good," George didn't say anything, out of nerves, and let his friend continue. "our top acts are bailing on us last minute, I don't know why but they don't want to perform for us." George's eyes skipped through a dozens lines on one of the letters that Ringo fetched from on top of the clipboard. As he read through it Ringo picked up another huge bit of paper, which turned out to be a newspaper. "And this is why!"

He held up the newspaper to George's beady eyes, so he could read the big, bold headline. "They published the story already?" "If I vomited on a co-worker no one'd care, 'cept for that poor guy."

"Well this is high profile, some really important people were in the audience wathcing the play." George thought for a moment supposing he was right. It made him think what if this had to do with the man he saw in corridor, the one who called Paul a bastard. He had no proof though, it wasn't important, however. "We need to head to John's place, to let the others know, but I can't get off work, its becoming a madhouse."

"It's fine I'll try an' sort it."


	18. Eighteen

It felt wrong on many levels, but it didn't stop John from leaning in so his thin lips met with Paul's. John knew he was gay, and he didn't even deny it, at least not in his own mind. This had been common knowledge to only nearest and dearest (excluding his aunt and uncle), since his teens. Cynthia was more of a cover up, not that she knew it - John felt quite shitty at the way he treated her sometimes, the way he manipulated her to get his way, she was a good person. He tried to not to keep it in his mind however. Paul pulled away after a few seconds, not entirely sure how to react to this very comprimising situation. "I-- uhm..."

"That's okay," John said very calmly surprising himself, Paul rejected his kiss, and it stung a little bit. These weird feelings towards Paul were unexpected, but maybe he'd just fancied the other man all this tine without noticing. "just don't call the cops on me." He joked, the last part in an American accent, he prayed that he covered his faltering confidence well enough. Paul laughed very awkwardly and hoped they could move past this, he didn't want to bring it up but he couldn't help his curiosity. "So you're..."

"A faggot?" John said bluntly, almost feeling ashamed of himself, but at the same time wasn't, he was used to his _condition_ as they called it. "That's right Macca, I'm a dirty old queer."

\-----------

George Toogood Smith lay down very still, staring up at the ceiling. For weeks now, he spent hours staring at the blank ceiling, it mirrored what he felt inside - nothing. Anyone on the outside would have thought he was over reacting about things but they didn't feel what he felt. Onlookers wouldn't understand what it felt like to watch your wife worry everyday, for you to be laying down when you should be working, for your young nephew to be financially supporting you. He felt as if he'd lost his place on earth as a man and was nothing but a burden on those who didn't deserve it. He knew exactly what needed to be done. He had to die, why go on dragging down everything around him? The only solution in his mind was to take these pills so it'll kill him before the dementia does.

After what could only have been a half hour he heard the light footsteps of his wife approach their room. "George, darling? I was--" The  
sixty year old's shaky hand dropped the small pot of white pills resulting in them scattering onto the bed way he sat up. "George, no." She sternly objected as if she was talking to a young John. She knew exactly what he was doing and she wouldn't allow it.

"Mimi..." George said, barely audible, he had no more pride within him to care whether or not his wife saw him cry. She sat down on the bed, no longer feeling the fury that was shortly before welling up in her. He stared into his wife's green eyes, part of him wanted to take his crazy scheme back, to reverse everything, but he knew it wasn't possible. It was either he died, or he live in this house as a stranger, with no memory of those who he cared most about.

"I can't let you do this," Mimi pleaded desperation spilling out in buckets. She gathered all of his spilt pills, but was intervened by her husbands warm hand, blue veins protruding, that gently grabbed hers. "You must let me, please," She needed no explanation as to why, they had long arguments into the night about this.

He had always gone on about how he wanted to end it quickly and painlessly. He was on his way to an early death anyways and if he died now, it wouldn't make a difference, he said. But that's where he was wrong, it would make a difference not to the world -- but to his friends (who didn't even know about his illness) and her and John. "Its been too long, it's been too much. I beg you please." During every heated argument they've had Mimi was sure she wouldn't give in, but this time she wasn't so sure -- she felt exhausted and so was her husband. Could they go on like this?

"I-I'll have to call John."

\-----------------------

"Oh." He mumbled. "How long have you been..." John observed the way Paul stared at him, he couldn't pinpoint if it had been a look of disgust or fascination, but he didn't like it -- he felt like a circus freak.  
"It's not a fucking disease y'know Paul!"

"I didn't think that John 'im just wondering that's all." Paul argued back. "If you try an' kiss me I'd want answers _before_ I kiss yer back!" The atmosphere intensified just as much as the blush on both of their cheeks. So once again, this time less rushed, John leant in to try and kiss Paul once again, it might not happen again so he wanted to savour it. They tried kissing but their teeth clashed and they hadn't quite found their rhythm. And their moment ended when John's telephone started to ring. Paul tried to pull away from him, but his grip around his waist was too firm, so he reckoned that John wasn't gonna to answer it.

\---------------

"Mimi please, it's time now."

"Oh will you please just shut it, this isn't a fucking movie." George chuckled very heartily, causing him to cough a little. "Haven't heard you swear since when you dropped John when 'e was a toddler." Mimi was elated that he even remembered something that happened two decades ago, it was progress -- but then again also meaningless especially as there isn't a cure for dementia. She became too disheartened to carry on pacing so she sat back down on the end of their bed.

"There were also tha' time," He used his strength to lift himself up a little more, as he began reminiscing. "when I snuck you out on a date and your father was across the road, so we had run, so he wouldn't see."

"I had to go barefoot 'cause you were dragging me in my heels!" They laughed for a minute; forgetting their troubles. "Oh gosh, George." She turned her head to see that her husband was gone, she recognised expression of being lost all of his face.

He had forgotten again.

Mimi brought herself up from the end of the bed over to George who was staring at her with confusion and hate. She walked cautiously, so he wouldn't get alarmed, and rested her arm around his shoulder. Having experience as a nurse she knew to take her time. However gentle she was, her husband reacted aggresively, her quick reaction led her a few steps back, before her husband could attack her. The dementia made him extremely vunerable and often messed up with his head causing him to behave this way.

Mimi knew that this is what he wanted, maybe even what he needed. Why should he have to suffer like this? What kind of twisted person would let someone they love suffer. She built up the bravery to approach him, not to kill him, she'd never do that. Just to help him rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been two and a half frickin' months oml, I feel terrible. But here's a double chapter and McLennon to make it up to y'all!!!


	19. Nineteen

"Hello?"

"...."

"Is this one of them prank calls? I aint got time for this shite so piss off." John yelled angrily down the phone, it was getting late and he really wanted to get back to Paul. "Wait!" A familiar voice pleaded from the other end lf the line. "Please... John come now." Despite her voice being cracked, John knew her long enough to recognise her voice. "Mi? 's that you Mi?" John asked his frustration decreasing yet panic building up in his chest. Her tone of voice scaring him, he remained silent rather than bombard her with more questions.

"Please, my boy, y-you have to come now." She slammed the receiver down before she could lose it and let all of her emotions spill out onto the floor, yet as soon as she put it down she burst into sobs.

John kept the phone against his ear, in case she didn't actually hang up. But when his brain decided that she hung up it didn't send signals for the rest of his body to start moving, instead he stared directly in front of him at the wall still holding the phone. Paul stretched from John's bedroom to investigate why he had disappeared for so long. John went into the bedroom and never spoke a word to Paul "J-"

"I have to go." He said curtly and left, probably, thought Paul, to put his shoes on before leaving.

He knew it had to do with his uncle, he knew. Mimi was never in such a state. He was scared to open on the door, the fear took over him so much he had forgotten where he was, everything that was troubling him an hour ago didn't matter and wouldn't until this was over. He opened the door, everyone kept their doors unlocked back then, and followed the only light that was on in the house.

It was his Uncle and Aunt's bedroom, and as he expected but never prepared for there was his uncle's pale body flopped on the bed as if he had got home from a long day and just fell asleep.

He hoped it was that, but it wasn't, he was dead.

What was even more sick, he was still a bit warm, John wanted to be sick, there and then. He fought to keep the sick down, as he made his way to the kitchen, but he let it spill, along with tears, onto the kitchen tiles.

It broke John's aunt to see him crouched on the ground like that crying and being sick. She felt her blood boil contemplating on how George would want to die, not even considering the mess he'd leave behind. But she quickly realised that she had given in to him, and had let it happen. She almost ran to crouch beside John and mourn with him, but she knew she had to hold it together.

"Alright, it's alright dear," She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, encouraging him to stand up. When he managed to balance himself upright they faced each other she could clearly see the pain in his face, vice versa.

"C'mon now, boy," She wiped some of the teats from his face with her thumb. "there's no need for that" He sniffed a few times and then, she led him to the living room so he can calm down.

\-----------

Paul, unaware to what had struck John's life at that moment, spent the duration of his absence, sat upright gleefully in John's bed. He didn't know how to feel with their kiss, as he thought about it all the consequences that were tied with it found its way back into his mind. However it didn't take him long to realise he was engaged. Then the pain Linda had caused him thrashed him from his golden carriage and then made him remember all the other things going on in his life. He relaxed his body and his head fell onto the tattered pillow John slept on, just wanting to forget everything.

\----

The only thing that raced through George's mind as he tried and failed to call John's telephone, was a string of swear words. No one answered and the only thing he could think of was to just go to his flat and see him.

And that is where he sat right now on John's beaten couch, next to Paul who was downing some strong alcohol. George wasn't much of a drinker but he was tired of running around, and hoped it would help him relax a little.

"In the end its always just me nd you," George laughed. "Sitting down with our problems. What's on yer mind." The younger one already anticipated what Paul was going to say, but he was wrong, it wasn't about the business.

"John and I kissed earlier tonight." George had no words but managed to down his drink without choking on it. "Well, he kissed me, then...I did it back." Paul thought about what happened earlier and felt goosebumps spread on his arms. "I don't know why I did it though."

"Is being queer a good enough explanation for you." He almost joked, but was serious at the same time. Paul's business was already in turmoil, he didn't need being gay added to his list of problems. "I couldn't care less if you were one mate, but I care about your fucking safety though."

"You're gear Geo, but I ain't one," He looked reassuringly at him. "you can sit closer to, I'm not going to kiss you as well."

"But wait why'd you kiss him?" He was confused, but ultimately he was glad Paul was being so candid about everything, it give him a better perspective on everything, if he knew everything.

"Well he did it first, and I pushed him off. I felt bad though so I kissed him back."

"You must like him slightly if you did though." George figured, since people don't really do things for no reason, also Paul was a people pleaser so he can se why he did this. He doesn't like to make people unhappy and he loves to entertain.

"But that's the thing, I _love_ Linda."

"Yeah but where is Linda now? She's gone, but John's here helping you out when you need it."

"That's another thing, he thinks I like him, and after all he's done to help me as well..." He trailed off, all this thinking and all these complications were giving him a headache.

"You'll have to tell him." Although he had the best intentions of wanting to keep John happy, Paul was entertaining the idea that he liked him, which would only end in a mess. "You can't hide it forever."

"I know, but I need to find Linda, and I need fix, check on dad, call Mike..."

"Yes mate you got a whole load of problems lets deal with it one at a time though, yeah?" George exhaled heavily. "We've got to start with Penns."

\--------------

Ritchie was relieved that he had the chance to put his feet up after his overly busy shift. No shows were on today, unsurprisingly as most of the actors had either quit or were sick. But they had to fill in events that had been cancelled with replacement ones, and it'd been hard, considering Ringo was basically in charge of coordinating most things.

He had felt the pressure today, but he could sit down in the staff room drinking tea, and unwind before he left to go home.

"...telling you. It's legitimate," Well the exhausted man had nothing better to do, eavesdropping seemed a better option than reminiscing about his _wonderful_ day. "You spread to word 'bout, Stu'll pay you a load."

"I ain't sure," This person seemed more like a boy than a man, his voice was quieter and he was alot more hesitatant. "'ow much?"

"Nuff to keep your ma out of debt for a while." The man obviously struck a chord, as the boy finally agreed to it. "I like Paulie though." He said solemnly, as if he didn't want to go through with whatever the other guy was talking about. They both stood up left the room, taking their hushed whispers with them.

Ringo seriously considered they were talking about Paul McCartney, but then again Paul is a very common name, so he could be wrong. But he wasn't going to take his chances so he settled that they were plotting against him.

And George was right Stuart was behind this. What the hell was John going to say when he finds out, his best friend is out of control.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo.... what d'you think? I plan to make this story kind of long, so brace yourselfs.


End file.
